


Further Adventures of Cat and Kitten

by SunAndMoon (LadyMorgaine)



Series: Seventeen ABOs [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Body Dysphoria, Homophobia, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, body image issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-09-16 06:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16948425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgaine/pseuds/SunAndMoon
Summary: Welcome back! So the first few chapters will be vast, sprawling monsters as I try to catch up with other characters, but it will still be about Soonyoung and Jihoon!This will likely not make much sense if you don't know the first Adventures.For those curious about what everyone is and how old they are, etc, here you go! I had to alter a few of the ages a little to fit in better with what I had foolishly written last time around.Soonyoung: Alpha tiger – Age  22, Masters 1, Dance and ChoreographyJihoon: Omega Persian  - Age 22: Music and DanceHansol: Alpha mix – wolf/bear – Age 20, studying MusicSeungkwan: Omega red cat – Age: 20, Studying MusicChan: Alpha wolf – Age: 19, skipped a year of school somewhere. Studying DanceSeokmin: Alpha dog (Collie) – Age:  21, lost a year when his parents lived overseas, studies MusicSeungcheol: Alpha wolf – Age: 23 , studies financial managementJeonghan: Beta dog (Korean Jindo) – Age: 23  , studies FashionJoshua: Beta dog (Husky), Age:  23,Jun: Omega fox --  Age:  22, Dance and Sports ScienceMinghao: Alpha fox – Age   21, dance and fashionWonwoo: Beta wolf – Age:  22 , studies linguistics and dramaMingyu: Beta wolf – Age:  21, studies FashionThere will be lots of heat coming. The rating will go up.Infrequently updated until Beautiful Tomorrow finishes.





	1. Chapter 1

"KWON SOONYOUNG!"

 

The enraged scream echoed through the auditorium, making Lee Chan straighten nervously. On stage, Soonyoung-hyung actually tripped and fell, likely from sheer shock. Not that Chan blamed him. There at the top of the area, storming in like a tiny, incandescent star, came the one thing that Lee Chan feared more than Boo Seungkwan in a spiteful, sulky mood.

 

Lee Jihoon was angry. He was so angry his hair was fluffed up straight, both on his head and on his tail, which was lashing furiously behind him. It looked ridiculous and frightening and awe-inspiring all at the same time.

 

"Yes, kitten?" Soonyoung-hyung called as he straightened on stage, ignoring his tittering first-year class.

 

"Don't you fucking 'kitten' me, you massive prick!" Jihoon-hyung screamed. "This is all your fault!"

 

Chan saw doubt well up in Soonyoung-hyung's expression, then rising confusion and worry. "What is it, Hoonie?" he asked as he dropped down from the stage.

 

"I'm pregnant!" Jihoon-hyung yelled at the top of his considerable lungs.

 

 _Oh my_ , Chan thought into the sudden vast silence. _Oh gods. We're dead._


	2. Chapter 2

Chan slid in at the lunch table their group normally sat at, petting his hand briefly on Seokmin’s thigh in greeting before he stared wide-eyed across the table towards Seungkwan. The Jeju boy looked tired and a little wan – Hansol was sitting there with pinched lips and an unhappy expression – which led Chan to believe they’ve had one of their infrequent fights. “Your TA is crazy,” he said flatly, hoping to distract them from it. “I legit thought he was going to kill each and every one of us in the hall, and I still have to make my exams, man. What possessed him to storm in like that and just yell it out?”

 

Seungkwan rubbed at his face before a rueful pout grew. “What do you expect?” he muttered. “It’s _your_ TA’s fault for turning him into hell in Gucci slides.” His gaze twitched sideways. “Poor Seokmin- _hyung_ got double barrels too today, when he offered to lift a box.”

 

“Never again,” Seokmin swore solemnly. “I learnt my lesson, thank you very much.”

 

Blinking, Chan looked sideways at his boyfriend. “You… offered to lift a box for him?” he asked curiously. “Why?”

 

Seokmin shrugged. “Well, he had just dropped the news on our laps like a hot potato and he was crying from sheer anger and trying to wrestle a new console out of a box, so… instincts, I guess? And then he nearly yanked my balls off for even attempting it. And then he turned around and stomped out and I didn’t have my phone, so I couldn’t even let you know.”

 

Hansol slid one hand forward metedly to take Seungkwan’s, wrapping his larger, stronger fingers around the omega’s delicate hand. “Why do I get the idea you know more than that, Kwan?” he asked, eyebrowing his sulky, pouting boyfriend. “Take pity on us poor alphas, okay? Bestow your omega wisdom on us.”

 

Chan, on the verge of rolling his eyes, felt the kick underneath the table that warned him to keep his mouth shut.

 

“It’s a long story,” Seungkwan groused irritably. “I’d have to go back… gosh, around the time Myungho- _hyung_ came from China? I mean, he and Jun- _hyung_ had a part to play in it, and Jeonghan- _hyung_ and Jisoo- _hyung_ as well…”

 

Seokmin brightened. “Oh! I love stories. Hang on!” Shooting up, he ran to the cafeteria’s snack section and havered to and fro in front of the vending machines there.

 

Hansol, staring at his back, pressed Seungkwan’s hand tighter as he smiled. “Sometimes I get the idea he’s still a gigantic puppy,” he commented.

 

“My puppy,” Chan said, trying to ignore the way some of the closer girls stared at Seokmin’s back and arms in that sleeveless shirt.

 

Seungkwan, brightening a little, had only a moment to lean over and pet Chan’s hair before Seokmin returned, spilling an armload of snacks on the table.

 

“Here!” he carolled happily, pulling out a large bottle of tea and a packet of seaweed wafers. “For your throat so that it doesn’t get sore, Kwannie-ah, it’s the sugarless version you said you liked the other day? And the seaweed won’t upset your stomach. Hansol-ah, I got you a soda and some chips?” He leant over to peck Chan’s closest temple. “Coffee and some pocky for my cutie.”

 

For a moment Seungkwan looked as if he wanted to cry as well, but he sniffed and opened the tea, taking a long sip. “It all goes back to that picnic we had,” he said, gaze distant. “Seokmin- _hyung_ , Channie, do you still remember that day that we met Myungho- _hyung_ after he came here the first time, and…”

 

“Hang on,” Hansol interrupted. “I haven’t heard this story either.” He shifted slightly, leaning back and away from Seungkwan, reaching down to pick up his feet and swinging them over his lap. “If it’s story time, I want to hear the whole thing.” Carefully, gingerly, his hands started massaging Seungkwan’s calves, soothing the exercise-sore flesh.

 

“This is what Jun- _hyung_ told me,” Seungkwan said, and took another sip of tea as he started to tell the story. “All the way back last April…”

 

* * *

 

_Last April:_

 

Jun kept his head down as he stretched, taking care to warm his muscles and ligaments up as much as he could. It had been way too long since he danced competitively, and years since he did anything but contemporary and acrobatics. That... _that_ had stopped when he presented as omega; it hadn't been unexpected, but after he could simply not compete against the larger muscle mass the Olympic-level alphas and betas could pack on if they tried.

 

It had been the first argument with his strict alpha father, who had wanted him to continue, wanted him to be the best alpha he could be even though his secondary gender didn't match. It had also been the only time his omega mother had stood up for him against her mate; no one slighted a fox maiden's heartfelt desire without peril. So, with little ado, his father had agreed, his mother had packed his belongings and he had ended up here a few weeks ago, enrolled in a combined master's class of Dance and Sports Science without so much as a peep.

 

The fates had been kind to him. The university was top-notch, modern in every sense of the word, the kind of place where every secondary gender was welcome.

 

If only everyone would stop _staring_. He was by far not the most beautiful person on campus; that honour went to a lazy Jindo beta that was somewhere further on in the master’s program.

 

He barely glanced up when a short figure sank down next to him. Lee Jihoon could dance the legs off an ostrich and was a master's candidate as well, albeit in the vocal field for all that he subbed as a dance TA sometimes. He was soft on the third member of the dance TA fraternity here, an alpha tiger named Kwon Soonyoung. Kwon Soonyoung was possible the _least_ alpha-acting alpha he had ever met, which was a good thing: Lee Jihoon was the least omega-acting omega he knew as well, and the sparks between the two could make him smile at the best of times.

 

"Hey, _hyung_ ," Jihoon muttered. "Got a moment?"

 

Jun sat up straight and smiled at him. "Sure thing, Jihoon-ah, what can I do for you?"

 

Jihoon's nose wrinkled. "There's a new Chinese student coming in today, Professor Yang asked me to see if we can greet him and show him around. It's my turn, I know, but a note on his file says he's not fluent with Korean yet and my Mandarin is non-existent. I'll make it up to you later on?"

 

Jun tilted his head, smiling skewed and curious. "You got any more of that marinated crab your kid's mother sent him from the island?"

 

Jihoon's eyes narrowed as a pout manifested. "My crab," he tried.

 

Jun rolled his eyes. "Does that work on anyone but Soonyoung-ah?" he asked as he straightened, the better to work on his thighs. "Crab, then greeting."

 

Jihoon gave a grumbly little growl, punched him on the arm and nodded, all with a mumble of acceptance.

 

Watching him leave, Jun grinned and shook his head, moving to the side to continue his warmup. He wouldn't tell him, but he had a gigantic soft spot for the younger composer and his 'kids'. Between Seungkwanie, Seokmin-ah and Jihoon-ah, the homesickness kept itself at bay. He didn't want to risk it rebounding on a Chinese student, but life was like that.

 

Later that day, seated just outside the Performance building, he sunned himself and waited, mind cleared of mostly everything. Fifteen minutes passed, then a half an hour, and he was just about to leave when a rake-thin kid came up to him. Delicately built, almost as delicate as Jihoon-ah, but taller, more attenuated, and with an alpha's scent lurking just beneath the surface: pine forests accentuated by an orange cologne, made brisk by the strange scent of ice he carried with him.

 

"I'm so sorry," the alpha said sweetly, bobbing a bow. "Are you Wen Junhui-ge? I'm Xu Minghao, I'm so sorry that I'm late. I got confused with which bus to take from the airport and it took me some time to find another route." Another bow. "Please forgive me for wasting your time, ge."

 

Jun couldn't do much beyond stare. This close there was the unmistakeable scent of fox on him; pretty, so _pretty_ , and untainted by a mate's scent. It brought up memories of his girlfriend back home, what he had had to give up to study here, and he was sad all over again. "Don't worry about it," he got out and gave a small bow back, handing over the handwritten map he had worked on earlier. "Here, this is annotated in Mandarin; I'll take you to your dorm first, and then show you around? Please, call me Jun- _hyung_ , it's safer to get used to honorifics in Korean."

 

Minghao gave a slight smile, almond-shaped eyes focusing on the folded square. "Thank you," he said softly but with feeling. "If you can show me the dance studios as well I would appreciate it, Junhui-... Jun- _hyung_."

 

They had barely crossed into the dorm building when Minghao ground to a halt, elfin face lifted in confusion. "The air in here is strange... where did everything go? I can only smell myself?"

 

"There are several areas that are serviced by the latest in bio-recycling air filtration systems," Jun explained as he wandered on. "They are medical-grade, made possible by the research departments here, I’m told. The university prides itself on creating a safe environment for everyone. They're in the dorms, the cafeteria and most of the sports halls. It's a little disorienting to go in and out of buildings, but you'll get used to it. We have it a little worse than the felines or other species, but it's tougher on the wolves."

 

Minghao sniffed again: once, twice, then gave the cutest sneeze Jun had ever heard. "Bless you," he grinned. "Come on, you're on the third floor." He led him to his dorm room; this far into term there was only a small single available, and he went to pull the curtains open as Minghao set his luggage down.

 

"Are you in the same year?" the alpha asked curiously, but respectfully. "Or are you on the induction committee, Jun- _hyung_?"

 

Jun turned to watch Minghao as he perched on the small bed. "Neither. I'm one of the dance department's TAs... I think I'm a year older than you? I graduated undergrad studies last year in Beijing before I moved here for my masters. We have three in the modern dancing department at the moment -- myself, Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon. Soonyoung-ah will do your placement to see in whose team you end up in."

 

Minghao tilted his head. "I hope it's yours," he said softly, standing to hold the door open for them. "At least I can speak clearly then. I..."

 

"Jun- _hyung_!" came an excited shout down the corridor, and Jihoon's duo of troublemakers ran down the corridor with thundering steps, with Seokmin in front and Seungkwan holding a plastic container under his arm. "Is this the new guy? Jihoon- _hyung_ asked if I could bring you his share of crab," Seungkwan asked, not even a whit out of breath; then again, he had the lung capacity of a whale and so did Seokmin-ah, which explained their noise.

 

Jun 'suffered' through their back-clapping hugs and grinned down at them. "This is Xu Minghao, and he's a third year so be respectful, ok? And help him out when you see him." He took the container of crab from Seungkwan and gave it to Minghao.

 

"I... thank you?" Minghao said in broken Korean.

 

"Welcome, _hyung_ ," Seokmin said with a huge, sunny smile. "You can ask us anything, okay? We're both first year but we know a lot of people!"

 

"They're good kids," Jun added in Mandarin. "Dependable, you can trust them." Switching back to Korean, he slung an arm around Seungkwan's shoulders, hanging off them before giving Seokmin's hair a ruffle. "I need to go, will you two show him the dancing rooms and the cafeteria? Not that you're going to need it with the crab, Seungkwan's mother makes the best marinated crab I've ever tried. Welcome to university!"

 

Everyone murmured goodbyes, and he felt little guilt as he fled as slowly as he could, nose filled with ice and pine and mind filled with sad thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Minghao looked helplessly after Wen Junhui as he ambled off, distance eaten by his long legs, before he turned to face the two first years. "Thank you?" he hazarded. "I go with you, yes?"

 

"Yes!" Seungkwan carolled.

 

Seconds later they each had him by an arm, and they spent the rest of the trip to the Performance building chatting slowly enough that he could keep up. They really were good kids, if only a few years younger; from what he could understand they were both Vocal majors despite being avid dancers. They were also _loud_ , constantly joking and consulting the hand-drawn map Junhui-ge had provided. Seokmin was much easier to understand; Seungkwan's Korean was heavier, containing phrases that made even Seokmin boggle at times.

 

Neither of which sounded as strange as their Mandarin murder when they tried to pronounce the words on the map.

 

Oddly, when he stepped into the dance building it felt like coming home despite the scent issue. It was as if tension left his spine; here was a familiar enough environment, something he understood bone-deep. The practice rooms ranged from tiny to one large enough for a stage layout; when they finally escorted him into an office, he was almost prepared for the noise that ensued.

 

"Soonie- _hyung_!" Seokmin shouted. "It is I, your faithful _dongsaeng_!"

 

The man behind the desk surged to his feet, striking a pose that might have come from an anime, making Seungkwan clap his hands with delight.

 

"Seokkie-ya!" 'Soonie- _hyung_ ' called back boisterously. The young man at his side just facepalmed, shaking his head.

 

"That's Soonyoung- _hyung_ ," Seungkwan shared, hauling the young man closer to ruffle his hair _aggressively_. "And this is the cutest alpha I know, Lee Chan. Channie, this is Xu Minghao-ssi, speak slowly ok? We're still working on his Korean. Minghao- _hyung_ , this is Channie, he's the one I was talking about, the one so good at Michael Jackson style?"

 

Minghao brightened, interest piqued. "You... make song Michael Jackson style?" he asked curiously. "You show? I b-boy, some hip-hop."

 

"Hyuuung," Chan whined as he pulled away from Seungkwan's hand. "Stop that. Nice to meet you, Xu Minghao-ssi. Yeah! I love Michael Jackson. You wanna go dance?”

 

 _Yes,_ Minghao decided wordlessly. _I can fit in here._ Opening his mouth to answer, Soonyoung’s thunderous ‘Dance Battle!’ ringing in the air of the office made him jump and laugh, and he was equally quick to run out to a studio.

 

* * *

 

“Hmm, I remember some of that, but I hadn’t been friends with you guys back then,” Hansol said as Seungkwan fell quiet to eat a couple of seaweed wafers. “I mean, I remember the three of you from class sometimes, but I was still keeping pretty much to myself back then. I hadn’t even joined the pack yet. I think the first time I spoke to any of you was…”

 

Seokmin grinned at him. “That time you defended Seungkwanie against that bully in May and our Seungkwanie fell in love at first sight,” he teased.

 

Seungkwan, colouring a brilliant red, made to lift a leg to kick at Seokmin. “Yah! That’s not… I mean, I didn’t… it wasn’t love at first sight? I just really wanted to do some dances! The lusting after him came later on!”

 

“It wasn’t? Er, hang on, it did? What?” Hansol asked dumbly.

 

Feeling just a little bit like a little shit, Chan grinned from his position of safety on Seokmin’s other side as the collie laughingly fended off the kicks. “Lemme tell you the story from our side,” he said to his _hyung_. “I had to listen to him stuttering about it three times over that first week…”

 

* * *

 

 _Last May_ :

 

Seungkwan tried not to cast a glance towards the right-hand-side of the class. He had been bullied constantly by some of the rappers in the class; he envied their smart grasp of words and the biting fervour with which they could spit out insults, but being one of the prime targets in class didn’t particularly make it the highlight of the day. Not even Seokkie’s presence could make it any better, though the alpha Collie was abnormally cheerful and constantly had jokes to tell. Today, luckily, another topic distracted them.

 

In the few months since the beginning of the year, everyone had met Kwon Soonyoung, it seemed, and everyone was jostling to get a position in his dance group. He didn’t blame them. The tiger alpha was contagiously energetic and funny, loud and given to the corniest jokes sometimes. He made everything look _fun_ , and there was a rumour that he’d be taking one of the largest segments of the mid-year performance and choreographing an entirely new dance number. It was already going to be a show-stopper, given that Lee Jihoon, the university’s resident grumpy cat, was composing a large number of the songs and the man was a _genius_. Two geniuses working on such a project together? Everyone was agog.

 

“…did you get your homework done?” a cheerful voice next to him asked, pulling him out of his huddle. “The maths stuff, I mean, I got confused by the last part of it, and I’ve been practising so hard I couldn’t go to the TA yesterday.”

 

Seungkwan looked at the guy sitting on the other side. Lee Chan was one of the youngest students here, barely past high school graduation and presentation, but he was also one of the cutest in Seungkwan’s opinion; though he hung more with the rap crowd than the vocal crowd, it was difficult to believe he was an alpha wolf, he was that friendly. He didn’t show much dominance yet, but it was there in the nooks and crannies of his scent, especially when it wasn’t obscured by the university’s bio-pumps. This classroom, a smaller one, didn’t have them in, which was another reason for his misery.

 

“I have,” he admitted softly, straightening a little and pulling his laptop closer. “I can mail you the proofs and stuff to your e-mail address here?”

 

Chan’s eyes widened. “No, I can’t just steal it. Just, if you have a moment later today, I was wondering whether you could show me how to do it? Sorry, I’ll pay for lunch?” He lifted one hand in a ‘sorry’ gesture, bowing his head slightly. “Soonyoung- _hyung_ is dancing our legs off, I promise. I think it’s revenge for changing his playlist out to Michael Jackson!”

 

Seungkwan, shocked out of his doldrums, laughed. “You didn’t!” he grinned, elbowing Seokmin. “Seokkie, listen what Channie was brave enough to do… Channie, it’s a wonder your legs aren’t falling off. If it had been Jihoon- _hyung_ , you’d be dead by now.”

 

Chan gave them both a broad, cheerful smile. “I’ve heard Jihoon- _hyung_ ’s other students complain as well. You’re both so brave for having him for singing. Are you going to perform any other songs as well? Any dancing? He might be short, but Jihoon- _hyung_ can dance!” He thought, tilted his head slightly. “Not as well as Soonyoung- _hyung_ though…”

 

“Hey,” Seokmin started. “You take that back!”

 

“I wish I could dance,” Seungkwan said wonderingly. “It looks so nice, you know, and his style is so admirable, I really like the urban fusion mix he has. And that dance you told me about, Thirteenth Month’s Dance? I wish I could be in that, that clip looked so lovely…”

 

“As if the fatass can dance,” came a drawling voice from a few rows behind them. “If the stage didn’t give in, he’d just embarrass this place.”

 

Seungkwan stuttered, feeling a huge blush creep over his face at the sheer mortification. At his side, Seokmin bridled, and Chan looked irritated enough to say something, but…

 

His rescue came from an entirely unexpected corner of the room. “Don’t be stupid,” came a deep, irritated voice. He wanted to freeze, listening to it, knowing it came from the serious rapper corner, and if it was who he thought… Even the smallest sideways glimpse confirmed his dread.

 

_Chwe Hansol._

No-one was quite sure what the rapper was, beyond one of the best-looking guys in class. Some whispered that he was a mix; with his Westernised features Seungkwan could believe it, but it was so rare to hear the chill guy speak up that everyone woke up at it, generating more interest than he would have wanted. He felt like melting into the _floor_ from sheer embarrassment.

“Can you just get out, Hae-ssi?” Chwe Hansol drawled.

 

The guy that had insulted him blinked, obviously surprised that his soft target had met a set of teeth coming from the other side. “What?” he spluttered. “Who do you think you are…?”

 

Chwe Hansol slammed his laptop shut, looking irritated. The emotion lent him an unwontedly serious cast to his face. “Boo Seungkwan isn’t fat. The mere fact that you think that shows how unintelligent you are, and I don’t want to catch that kind of stupidity. Instead of concentrating on what the class offers, you waste everyone’s time. It’s best if you just left, candy rapper.”

 

Seungkwan felt his world stutter to a stop. He felt the blush rise in increments. Chan was doing some kind of suppressed chair-dance next to him, whispering a ‘go go go _hyung_!’ and Seokmin, bright Seokmin, was laughing out loud at the guy’s expression. Even the slam of the door as his usual adversary left after long, spluttering seconds couldn’t unfreeze him. Head moving in a jerking fashion, he managed to finally look at Chwe Hansol.

 

He watched as Hansol-ssi sat back down again, slouching in the seat in the street-casual gear that seemed to be a rap uniform, and adjusting a large yellow beanie over his blonde mop of hair. Something inside him trembled; his university time hasn’t been the easiest so far, but this stranger had stood up for him, had quite literally risked his own reputation.

 

_Why?_

 

Hansol-ssi glanced up, caught his gaze and smiled. His brown eyes were so light, several shades lighter than anything Seungkwan had seen before.

 

Flushing, he plucked himself around and back to focus as the lecturer walked in, uninterested in a vocal comp class for the first time in his life. He ignored the murmurs from Seokmin and Chan, tried to calm his racing heart and kept his head down. Hands shaking, he tried to concentrate, but the rescue drummed through his head again and again, bringing up old memories.

 

Boo Seungkwan had been happy when he won the scholarship to come and study at the prestigious university. He had beaten out two thousand other candidates that he knew of, and had been so happy when he had gotten the news. That happiness had lasted precisely five minutes after he arrived; university wasn’t a place candy dreams were made of, and if it hadn’t been for Seokmin’s friendship – he wasn’t sure _how_ he earned that – he would have left a long time ago.

 

Now…

 

Biting his lip, he grabbed a pen and scribbled down his number on a piece of paper torn from one notebook. Scrambling up at the end of the class, he made his way to the young rapper’s side. “Thank you,” he said, holding the piece of paper out like a shield. “Thank you for that. If you ever need any help, um, that’s my number. Just call. Or whatever. Thank you again.” He bobbed his head, then his torso, unable to look at the light brown eyes.

 

“You’re welcome,” Hansol’s smooth, deep voice said above his head. “Please stop bowing. It was nothing, really.”

 

Seungkwan swallowed and straightened as the rapper took the piece of paper from him. “It wasn’t nothing,” he got out softly. “It was everything.” Blushing again – or had he just not stopped? – he turned on his heel and rushed out of the class, grabbing his bag from Seokmin on the way out.

 

“…it was _eeeeverything_ ,” Seokmin mimicked behind him, and burst out laughing as he sped up, practically running across the quad.

 

* * *

 

“Shut up!” Seungkwan hissed, well and truly red. “You make me sound like a k-drama! I was just grateful that I didn’t have to sit through another class like that.”

 

“I thought you were hot,” Hansol rebutted. “Totally and utterly hot. I mean, back then I thought you were with Seokmin- _hyung_ , so I didn’t say anything. Or with the two of them, I didn’t know.”

 

Chan and Seokmin burst out laughing as Seungkwan boggled at Hansol. “What?” the rapper defended himself. “You were hot, ok? And they were the only ones I could ever smell on you.”

 

Seungkwan sniffed, “About the only one that has enough energy for two boyfriends is Jeonghan- _hyung_ ,” he said prissily. “And that’s because he’s such a lazy bastard about everything else. They were just hugging me, Hansolie, we were only friends.”

 

“Good,” Hansol said, gaze relaxed but hands firm as he gathered Seungkwan in close to his side. The hug only lasted for seconds – he wasn’t much for PDA – but he smiled as Seungkwan lingered there, curving into him. “But isn’t that when Soonyoung- _hyung_ and Jihoon- _hyung_ started hooking up too? It must’ve been somewhere around there, I know they were together by June already. That’s about when I started getting close to Seungcheol- _hyung_ ’s pack too.”

 

 

“I still don’t get that,” Seungkwan complained. “I mean, not that I want to join, of course, but the very idea of a pack is so… so…” He fell silent, struggling to get the words out.

 

Seokmin gave him a radiant eye-smile. “That’s because you’re our lovely kitty, Seungkwan-ah. Pack is important for wolves!” He paused. “And dogs too. And foxes? I don’t know about the foxes, but it was for the Chinese _hyungdeul_ …” As a bell sounded in the distance to mark one in the afternoon, he broke off. “I’m gonna be late!” Leaning in, he drifted a kiss against Chan’s temple, grabbed his snacks and ran.

 

“He’s such a tease,” Seungkwan sulked. “And now he’s not going to tell me until later.”

 

Chan laughed at him, scooping up his things to the accompaniment of the gentle warmth of the kiss Seokmin left him with. “Take care of my puppy, okay? I’ll see you guys later. Art History calls.”

 

Grumpy, Seungkwan watched, tired limbs moving slowly as Hansol lifted them off his lap and started gathering his stuff. “You’re going to desert me too?” he asked waspishly, well aware that he was sulking like a pro but unable to do something about it.

 

Hansol paused to look at him. “Are you ready to listen to me about what happened earlier?”

 

Grimacing, Seungkwan looked away, off to one side. He didn’t watch Hansol pack up, just felt him press a tiny kiss against his cheek before he quietly left. Taking in a deep breath, he went to get his things too, and prayed that Jeonghan- _hyung_ was awake enough to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Welcome back! So the first few chapters will be vast, sprawling monsters as I try to catch up with other characters, but it will still be about Soonyoung and Jihoon! 
>   2. This will likely not make much sense if you don't know the first Adventures. 
>   3. For those curious about what everyone is and how old they are, etc, here you go! I had to alter a few of the ages a little to fit in better with what I had foolishly written last time around. 
>     * Soonyoung: Alpha tiger – Age 22, Masters 1, Dance and Choreography 
>     * Jihoon: Omega Persian - Age 22: Music and Dance 
>     * Hansol: Alpha mix – wolf/bear – Age 20, studying Music 
>     * Seungkwan: Omega red cat – Age: 20, Studying Music 
>     * Chan: Alpha wolf – Age: 19, skipped a year of school somewhere. Studying Dance 
>     * Seokmin: Alpha dog (Collie) – Age: 21, lost a year when his parents lived overseas, studies Music 
>     * Seungcheol: Alpha wolf – Age: 23 , studies financial management 
>     * Jeonghan: Beta dog (Korean Jindo) – Age: 23 , studies Fashion 
>     * Joshua: Beta dog (Husky), Age: 23, 
>     * Jun: Omega fox -- Age: 22, Dance and Sports Science 
>     * Minghao: Alpha fox – Age 21, dance and fashion 
>     * Wonwoo: Beta wolf – Age: 22 , studies linguistics and drama 
>     * Mingyu: Beta wolf – Age: 21, studies Fashion 
>   4. There will be lots of heat coming. The rating will go up.
>   5. Infrequently updated until Beautiful Tomorrow finishes. 
> 



	3. Chapter 3

Chan made his way to the dance building, eyed the note left on Soonyoung’s door and yanked it down just a little more savagely than he should. The paper tore, leaving the sticky tape there, and he grumbled as he took that down, balling all of it into a small ball. It was the work of moments to get in with the key Soonyoung-hyung had slipped him, and he threw the door open wide, nose wrinkling. It didn’t smell bad; wood shavings and sunlight, the faint scent of the liniment that all the dancers here used, and the wetness in the air from the small, trickling fountain in the corner.

 

That had been his contribution to the office: the air tended to be too dry without it, and he had balked at the level of irony in getting his new hyung a fishbowl. Putting his things down on the corner couch, he cleaned up the table, arranging everything as it should be, before he put delivered packages in the corner. He had learnt his lesson about opening packages very early in their association, when Soonyoung-hyung had accidentally gotten a work package and a private package mixed up.

 

It still haunted his memories. There were some things you didn’t want to know about your TA’s disgustingly prolific sex life.

 

Filling the little fountain to combat evaporation, he finally got to the point where he could sit in the chair behind the desk and stare. Very slowly – very, very slowly – the noise abated in his ears from the constant white pressure that assailed it during the day. His father had taught him the technique earlier in life to combat a wolf’s acute hearing; these days it served as well as meditation as anything else. University was fun, but it was also more work than he thought it would be, especially after he volunteered as Soonyoung’s assistant. He could feel his jaw straining as today’s memories floated across his mind: people staring at Seokmin and himself, measuring the width of Seokmin’s shoulders with hungry eyes, whispering softly. Even now, months after the fact, people still gossiped about them, about the inherent wrongness of two alphas in a relationship.

 

Some still offered to show him the _right_ way. It made him want to scream.

 

His ears almost twitched – that was not one of the adaptions he had inherited – as he heard someone’s palm settle whisper-soft on the doorknob outside. As sensitised as he was, he could practically hear the soft susurrus of fingerprints over the metal, sense the intent as soon as the person clamped their hand down hard enough to manipulate the lock.

 

His eyes flew open as the door did, and he stood slowly, fighting the urge deep in the marrow of his bones to snarl. Xu Minghao belonged to the pack as well, at least tangentially, and was older than him; he didn’t know whether his strength would counter the other’s experience and Wushu training, but he did know what would happen if Seungcheol-hyung found out.

 

So, instead, he bowed a little and said “Hyung, hi” in the soft voice he usually used to camouflage his instincts, and straightened again. “I think Soonyoung-hyung’s still at Jihoon-hyung’s studio, sorry.” The little shit in him prompted more. “If he’s not been murdered by now.”

 

Xu Minghao came to a stop in front of the desk in that way that suggested he truly had no spine. “That’s okay, Chan-ah… does he want Jun-hyung to take over some of his classes? Or I can as well, if you don’t feel up to doing it yourself.” His hand came from his back and he put a small red box down on the table. “A health supplement,” he explained softly. “It will help Jihoon-hyung, if he drinks it three times a day. It’s what my mother used when she was pregnant.”

 

Chan’s shoulders ruffled, tension fluttering down his spine to soak away a little. “It’ll be a change from Coke and the blood of his enemies, I guess,” he muttered sullenly, picking up the package to look at the dense Mandarin on it. “You heard then, hyung?”

 

“Oh yes. At least three people KKTed me about it,” Minghao said with some version of humour. “Most of them were wondering whether the end times had come.” He paused, stepped around the corner of the table and reached out to gently tilt Chan’s chin up a little.

 

Another pack privilege that; he was one of the very few people Chan wouldn’t have shied away from, but even so he wasn’t _happy_ when the tightness across his cheeks, the faint ripple of his jaw, or the thinner pinch of his lips were recognised, studied, _noted_.

 

“Chan-ah…” Minghao murmured. “Channie, you’re dancing too close to the edge today. You should go and sweat it out somewhere. A long run, perhaps. Is it… was someone rude about yourself and Seokmin-hyung again?”

 

“They were looking at him,” Chan got out past the press of his lips, trying to twitch his chin away from the long, firm fingertips. “Like they had a right to look at him, like they hadn’t fucked that chance up a long time ago. He’s mine now; he’s _mine_ , and those fuckers still think they have the right to look at him.”

 

Minghao’s eyebrows lifted a twitch at the low, rolling growl of the last, and his ears twitched as something else drew his attention. He looked down to see their maknae’s hands curl around the box of tea, curving up little curls of paper with his nails. Frowning, he liberated the mangled box from his fingertips and steered him out of the office with quick, delicate pats across his shoulders. He damned the very excellent air-cons as he went; they might keep the place clear and free, but they stunted his nose, and he had never had the best one.

 

Two doors down, into Jun’s office; his boyfriend looked up at him with a wide smile, but that faltered as he herded their little wolf in before him. ‘Smell him’ he mimed over his shoulder and watched as Jun sprang to his feet and moved forward. Moving back to give them some space, he went to pluck the door shut.

 

Chan started to apologise and greet Jun-hyung when long arms folded around him, bringing a peculiar kind of peace. There was nothing loving or maternal about the arms, but his stupid biology reacted anyway; the rolling growl building in his belly cancelled itself as he buried his face in his hyung’s neck, smelling deeply. Faint, so very faint, but the scent of sunlight on wood grew a little. All the dancers had it, given where they danced, but below it was the scent of musky vanilla and cold wind on stone, a snap-hint of Minghao-hyung’s crackling icy water smell lingering above it. He breathed it in desperately, hands curling on his hyung’s shoulder.

 

Jun looked over Chan’s shoulder at the sudden panting desperation of the younger boy’s scenting. With his eyes on Minghao, who nodded gently to him, he dipped his head a little and didn’t even need to work to get through the bio-pumps: fire and heat, the smell of roasting spices in a pan as they cracked open. Their little wolf normally smelled rainy-sweet, with hints of wet beach stone if he got particularly obdurate, but not _this_.

 

“Rut,” he murmured to Minghao in their own language, unwilling to disturb the young alpha in his arms. “Very faint still, I’m guessing he’s still more than a few days away from it. His first, I think?”

 

Minghao sighed uneasily. Chan was so young, and it had likely been delayed from the other strong alpha influences around him. Theirs was a pack that ran light on omegas, with all three tied to other members of the pack. It didn’t help that he worked around such a strongly dominant alpha as Soonyoung either, or that their little wolf would rather break his own face than even try to look past Seokmin to other possibilities. As it was, he wasn’t even sure how to deal with matters here and if his boyfriend could smell it a few days out, it would be a bad one.

 

“It’s okay, shhh,” Jun said quietly, patting gently at Chan’s shining head of hair, twining his fingers through the locks before wrapping his large palm around the nape of his neck. “It’s okay. Let hyung hug you a little, okay?”

 

Minghao’s heart gave a little flip of love. If it had been anyone but Jun, he would have been worried, but his boyfriend had a healing way about him – he had been healed by him too, after all. “Chan-ah,” he said gingerly. “Did you know that people looked down on me when I tried to start dating Jun-hyung as well? As I recall, in the start it was only Seokmin-hyung, Seungkwan-ah and yourself that were my friends. You guys even got me an invite to meet with Seungcheol to become pack… do you remember that?”

 

Chan calmed a little, but kept his face against Jun’s neck. “Not the whole thing,” he sulked. “Just bits and pieces.”

 

“Ah? Then let hyung tell you about it.”

 

* * *

 

_Last May:_

 

Minghao wanted to groan as he ambled into the exercise room. He was early, first of everyone, but it was already a hot day and the sunlight falling in the large windows onto the sprung dancefloor only made the room hotter. Grumbling, he made his way to the water refill station and filled his bottle, then made for a corner to relax in. Between dance and the Wushu club he had found here, there wasn’t much time to let his muscles rest, and they definitely felt angry with him.

 

He unlocked his phone and flicked through his feed, but looked up as the door swung open. He could vaguely see Seokmin-hyung and Seungkwan-ah waving to him through it, but his attention focused on the little wolf that ambled in, clad in leggings and a too-big shirt. Chan had a pensive look on his face, so he gestured and patted the floor next to him, scooting over to share the bit of towel with him. “Chan-ah,” he said slowly but surely, proud that he could converse a little easier with him. “You look like you are thinking deep thoughts, what is making you look like that?”

 

Chan reached up to ruffle his hair into spikes, sinking down gracefully. “Hyung,” he started off slowly. “Do you have someone that you like?”

 

Minghao, shocked by the personal nature of the question, tried not to think too hard about Jun-ge but it was futile, so he was sure that his cheeks coloured a bit. “There are some I find attractive, yes,” he murmured, trying to generalise. “But I’ve only been here a few months, I’ve more been focusing on learning my Korean and fitting in. I wanted to see if I could become a trainer as well next year, and then there’s Wushu…”

 

Brightening, Chan turned to scoot along on his butt, settling his legs out straight before him. “That’s right, which reminds me! You do martial arts, right? I don’t myself, but Soonyoung-hyung does, and Seungcheol-hyung as well… have you met Seungcheol-hyung before? He’s my pack leader.”

 

“I have not met him,” Minghao admitted quietly. “I can’t talk with very many people, Chan-ah, they are not patient when it comes to listening. My accent isn’t the best.”

 

Chan’s expression contorted into a worried nose-scrunch. “Your accent is so much better than it was only a few weeks ago, hyung!” he defended. “If that stops them from speaking to you then they are losers! Is someone picking on you? I can talk to them, or have… I can talk to them!”

 

The earnestness of the kid amused Minghao and made his heart feel a little warmer. “Tell me about your Seungcheol-hyung instead, okay? You say he is your pack leader? So he is a wolf hybrid then?”

 

“Yeah… His father and mine knew each other from army days, so he promised he’d look out for me, and he welcomed me into his pack. At the moment it’s him and the rap hyungdeul and… and the puppy-hyungdeul, that’s Yoon Jeonghan and Hong Jisoo, they’re the betas of the pack. Fat lot of good they are though, we’re all more mature than Cheol-hyung anyway, you should see him when he starts going after one of his million girlfriends…”

 

Minghao interrupted with a blink. “Your hyung has … one million girlfriends?”

 

Chan blinked back, laughed and shook his head. “No…? I mean, I was exaggerating, but he’s got like a huge fanclub, right? And he’s constantly dating left and right amongst them. They go mad for him, and he’s always telling them to keep their ring fingers open for him, and it’s _disgusting_ but kinda funny too, and… anyway! My point was that he does taekwondo and he’s pretty good at it, and he’s good with people of other types being friends with the pack, so I thought I’d introduce you? His parents are mega-rich, so he doesn’t stay on campus, but he’s really nice, not a dick at all, and…”

 

“Take breath,” Minghao advised when it looked as if the little wolf was going to pass out. “Deep one, and another… I would love to meet your hyung. If he’s really not against other breeds, then it’d be nice to talk about things.”

 

“He doesn’t care about breeds at all,” Chan said stoutly. “He’s the best. I mean, Jeonghan-hyung and Jisoo-hyung aren’t wolves, both are dogs, and Hansol-hyung is, um… I’m not sure what? Only half-wolf in any case, he doesn’t smell all the way there.” He frowned thoughtfully down at his hands. “And you like rap, hyung, right? I can introduce you to the group’s rap line, they’re really good.”

 

“I do!” Minghao said happily. “Well, I’ve mostly listened to Chinese rappers, but I like any kind of rap with a good beat and a good message…”

 

Chan’s eyes rounded. “There’s a party next Friday!” he shouted. “I’ll introduce you! Say you’ll come, okay? I can invite Junnie-hyung too, if he’s lonely too?”

 

Minghao winced at the good-natured shout. “I do not know,” he said, reaching to pinch the young wolf’s closest side. “Shh. You will have to talk to him.” Something deep in him stirred at the chance to see Wen Junhui in a social setting, but he refused to name it; it still was way too small to dream about. “I hope class learn fast, I have two project still in library with your pretty hyung that sings.”

 

“Seokmin-hyung?” Chan asked, looking down at his phone, the nape of his neck going slightly red. “To help with your Korean? I, um, I can walk you there afterwards so you don’t get lost?”

 

Minghao stared at the delicately pink skin, mouth twitching as he finally made sense of the confusing moment. _Pretty? Isn’t he handsome rather? Aish, little wolf… do I pretend not to have noticed?_ “I mean the other one, Seungkwan-ssi, but Seokmin-ssi was there too last time? I would appreciate company there yes otherwise singers outnumber me two to one, I need dancer, yes?”

 

Chan darted a glance at him, eyes bright, but could only nod as the class finally streamed in.

 

* * *

 

Yoon Jeonghan was without a doubt the laziest person Seungkwan had ever seen, not to mention the prettiest, and it was the latter that let him get away with the former. He was also one of the sweetest, and the only one he felt he could really talk to in Seungcheol-hyung’s pack. As a beta, Seungkwan could legitimately believe no one told Yoon Jeonghan what he was, what his limits were, and what he should be doing. Even now, just hanging out in his apartment – he lived next-door to Seungcheol-hyung in one of the huge apartments that family owned in the block – he was comfortably his own thing in ragged jeans and designer sweater, with shoulder-length brown hair as silky and conditioned as a girl’s, but with only a light line of eyeliner to go with the glossy perfection of his mouth.

 

His closet hung open to showcase a fascinating array of clothing from winter to summer, and Seungkwan knew for a fact half of Seungcheol-hyung’s closets had been taken over too. He wasn’t sure whether they had a relationship, but if they did, it included the other beta that lounged at his side. Hong Jisoo, an exchange student from America, rarely traded on the spectacular good looks his husky heritage gave him: raven-black hair, icy blue eyes, and a pale, perfect skin Seungkwan wished he had. Between the three of them, they looked after the mixed pack of wolves, dogs, two foxes and even an adopted nest of cats like Seungkwan, Soonyoung-hyung and Jihoon-hyung.

 

“So you two fought again,” Jisoo-hyung said idly as he considered the immaculate, coffered ceiling of the apartment.

 

“What’d you do now?” Jeonghan-hyung asked acerbically as he held up a teal shirt in front of Seungkwan, measuring the width against his shoulders. “And after that you can tell me why you’re a size down again. Damn it, Seungkwan-ah, hyung can’t keep you in clothes if you can’t decide what size you want to be.”

 

Seungkwan sighed low, biting down on the impulse to kick and scream and throw a tantrum only a kid could get away with. “I’m dieting and working out,” he mumbled, sitting up straight as Jeonghan poked in the small of his back. “I need to lose a few kilos; since my biology kicked over it’s like my weight is shifting into funny places, and have you _seen_ Mingyu-hyung at the swimming pool? That bastard has _abs_.” He paused. “You know he’s courting me?”

 

“Not Mingyu-ya, I trust, or someone else is going to explode messily.”

 

Jeonghan shot him a look before he motioned for Seungkwan to stand, throwing a selection of items over a tallboy near him. “What happened?”

 

Seungkwan, well-conditioned by now, merely undid his shirt and folded it off to one side, trying not to feel ugly next to two of the most handsome specimens on the campus. His hyungdeul were almost as bad as Seungcheol-hyung, having fan-clubs dedicated to them that still operated despite the fact that they had graduated and moved off-campus lately. “He wants me to meet his parents. They’re close by in Hongdae and apparently he’s told them about me already.” Holding out his arms, he slipped on a light pink sweater, v-necked and soft where it clung to his frame.

 

Jeonghan made a disgusted noise as he pinched at the sides of the sweater, bunching it up. “And?” Another pinch, this time of his stomach, and a grumble. “Take it off. Too big.”

 

“Hannie,” Jisoo warned, keeping an eye on Seungkwan’s unhappy expression.

 

The elder shot him a look, then Seungkwan, before he nodded to the bed at Jisoo’s side. “Explain it to me.”

 

Seungkwan sighed as he sat down, curling into the hug Jisoo offered him. “I want to meet his parents,” he said with a pout. “But it’s just… look, Jihoon-hyung aside, society has these expectations for omegas, right? Cute, soft, wonderful at children, excellent homemakers… cuddly and pliant and there to support their alpha mates.” His fingers flicked together, tangling until pressure turned them white. “I barely even know that I’m not straight, or that I’m an adult, and I just turned twenty.”

 

Jeonghan shot him a penetrating stare. “Kwannie,” he asked slowly. “When exactly did you find out about Jihoon-ah being pregnant?”

 

Seungkwan bit his lip and looked away. “I suspected a week ago,” he finally said. “You know he took me to, um, the sex doctor the first time. And I’ve been going regularly, because apparently you have to get monitored to make sure your body is okay after your first heat?”

 

“Oh yes,” Jisoo said. “It’s the same for women that turn out to be alpha. I take it he… she? The reproductive specialist?”

 

“She,” Seungkwan confirmed. “I couldn’t with a man.”

 

“I take it she explained about signs to watch out for, and you saw them in Jihoon-ah?”

 

Seungkwan nodded miserably. “I didn’t want to say anything or ask, because it’s Jihoon-hyung, but I suspected. And then I thought… what if that’s me? What if I become pregnant without suspecting it either, and it made my mind go blank. I don’t want to fuck up my life. Or his life. I’m barely finding out what I am, and getting a little stronger in my mind, and I don’t want that to go away because his parents think I’m all wrong for him, or that I’m not… I’m not omega enough, or whatever. And the more I try to tell him, the more it goes wrong. He’s got such a stupid, earnest face.”

 

“Hansol is not going to allow his parents to jump on you like that,” Jisoo said slowly, combing his hand through the tiny hairs at the nape of Seungkwan’s neck before he leant in to sniff discreetly at him. “But I can understand the feeling of not being at home in your own body and not knowing how to explain it. When I presented as a beta, I was glad, because it comes without the schlep most of the rest of you have to deal with.”

 

Jeonghan sat down so that he braced Seungkwan’s other side. “You are not silly for being afraid of this, and for not knowing how to say things. Have you seen Seungcheol haver about when his mother asks about his millions of girlfriends? He’s like a clown with a lead tongue. But the thing is, love, he deserves to know as well. If you can’t get the words out in person, perhaps you can get them out on paper? Even if you can’t hand him the letter afterwards, it might make things clearer in your head.” He leant in to kiss his temple gently.

 

“Besides,” Jisoo added. “Hansol-ah’s a half-and-half. He’s had to deal with his share of prejudice before as well.” He looked at Jeonghan over Seungkwan’s bent head. “About the exercise, have you thought about talking to Jun-ah about it? He’s an omega too, and he’s ferociously physical, not to mention that he’s doing sports sciences. He might have some tips as to what would work best, and help you work out a plan that best suits you. Hannie is right, you _are_ getting a little thin.”

 

“Hyung,” Seungkwan reproved, but his shoulders straightened a little as he thought about it. “Have you seen my cheeks? There’s nothing thin about me.”

 

“Oh yes,” Jeonghan drawled. “I’ve seen both sets, and if I had them, I could become a multi-millionaire model. They’re some of your best assets, forgive the pun.”

 

“Hyung!” Seungkwan screeched, cheeks flushed as he jumped up. “Here, take your sweater, you’re so nasty…”

 

The two betas grinned at each other as Seungkwan turned into a dervish of pouting, complaints and clothes, happy that their tag-team had done it again.

 

* * *

 

Soonyoung followed his blisteringly angry mate to his office. What he had heard rang in his ears, making him feel punch-drunk, and he felt grateful to sink down on the long couch. Jihoon was pressed against the other side of it, clearly in no mood to deal with anything, but Soonyoung knew the signs by now: when he was this angry it was easy to read his tells, from the tight line of his jaw to the snarl his fingers made of each other. Angry, yes, but emotional as well. Afraid, almost.

 

He sighed and scooted up, just enough to be close to him, but not enough to press right through whatever personal space the other needed like this. His kitten wasn’t what people would call a normal omega, more like a street-cat than a lap-kitten. So, though he wanted to curl around him, he held himself back. “Tell me about it,” he murmured. “All of it, please.”

 

Jihoon glared at him but subsided, transferring his gaze to the window. “I told you I didn’t want to have kids,” he said bleakly. “But I’ve been feeling off all week, and Seungkwan-ah suggested I buy a test because… because he said he’d heard that sometimes the pills were still ineffective. So I bought one, and hooray, we’re going to have kids. You knocked me up. And I _don’t want them._ ”

 

Soonyoung felt a little pain squeeze around his heart. He had always dreamt of a family no matter how tumultuous his childhood had been, had hoped that one day he would be as good as his father when it came to kids of his own. Grimacing, he combed his hair back from his forehead and shuffled that last little bit closer to Jihoon, not because his kitten needed it but because he needed it. Gingerly, ignoring the stiff shoulders, he wrapped his arm around Jihoon and nodded. “I know, kitten. I know. I’m sorry. I thought the pills would be enough. We should make an appointment with your doctor and go and see her as fast as possible.”

 

Jihoon’s body jerked under his, but he relaxed in slow inches, torso sinking a little to align with Soonyoung’s. For a moment he allowed the air and the smell of his mate to lull him: clean office and just the faintest hint of the spicy pepper of Soonyoung’s stress-scent above practice sweat. “I know. I just don’t want… I’m afraid, okay?”

 

Soonyoung looked sideways at him, then sighed as he reached to haul him onto his lap, curling his legs comfortably to one side and lifting his head so that Jihoon could tuck his nose against his neck. His mate was so fiercely independent that moments like these hurt all the more. “Whatever happens, I’ll remain with you, okay?” he whispered against his shining hair. “We can afford kids, if you want them. If you don’t want them… that is also your right, baby. But whichever it is, you’re my main objective, okay? I love Lee Jihoon, not his reproductive organs.”

 

Jihoon chewed at his lower lip before he closed his eyes and nodded. “You love those too.”

 

“Well, you do have a very cute dick.”

 

Jihoon spasmed, caught halfway between humour and outrage, a common condition when dealing with Kwon Soonyoung. “That’s disgusting.”

 

“Excuse you, no part of my Jihoonie is disgusting, except perhaps his vocabulary,” Soonyoung teased as he wrapped arms around his calming mate. “What do you say we go home and we make that tent in the living room again, and you can destroy me at the game of your choice? I’ll make the kimchi rice you like, and we can stop off for some Coke, and even some chicken?”

 

Jihoon considered the offer, glaring at the neck of Soonyoung’s workout shirt as he played with one of the little stripes of colour across the chest. “With the tiny pieces of popcorn shrimp?”

 

Soonyoung wrinkled his nose. “I changed my mind,” he said, shoving Jihoon playfully off his lap and standing. “Between this and your pineapple kink, I’m not sure I can continue with this relationship. I can’t… hey!”

 

Jihoon, measuring his distance, jumped from the couch onto his mate’s back, clinging with arms and legs. “Popcorn shrimp,” he demanded gruffly. “Or the topic of _kink_ won’t ever enter our apartment again. Mush!”

 

Soonyoung’s lips twitched as he went to grab his wallet. He had survived through stage one; they needed to talk, but _not tonight_. Tonight would be for his Jihoonie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this taking so long...


	4. Chapter 4

The knock on the door came bare seconds before it opened wide, surprising two of the three inside. Minghao stiffened and jerked forward to stop the person entering; when Chan’s rolling, low growl came seconds later from behind him he breathed in and shifted forward faster to scoot the unwelcome visitor out. _Too late,_ his mind chanted to him as he recognised the person. _Too late, shit, this is going to be bad…_

 

“Guys? Junnie-hyung? Minghao-hyung? Have you seen Chan?” Seungkwan’s cheerful voice came as he slipped in. Stilling, eyes widening at the tableau, he stuttered to a stop at the sight of Chan clinging to Jun so very fiercely. “I’m so sorry, are you…?” Expression fading to a worried one, the container he held at his side slowly sunk down to a hip level. “What’s going on? Is he ok? Am I, um, am I interrupting something?”

 

Chan’s head lifted as the opening of the door and the draft carried his friend’s scent to him: tart and sweet alike from berries bursting with ripeness, the head-turning smell of a fertile omega even past the HVAC systems as his nose went into overdrive. His mouth ran with saliva suddenly; he didn’t care when he pushed Jun back, or when he pressed past Minghao to slam into his best friend. Even the feel of his body was tortuous: too thin but still soft in places, clean and warm and alluring. He barely held on enough not to snap and bite, but he buried his face in the beautiful stretch of neck and inhaled deeply, whining when he felt uncertain arms wind around him. _Seokmin, Seokkie, I’m so sorry…_

 

“Channie?” Seungkwan questioned, too shocked to get much out. Too shocked at the way that Chan’s hand moved to rest on the cusp of his hip, or the softly warm press of his face against his neck, complete with too-warm skin. “Hyungdeul? What’s going on? Is he sick? Why is he so warm? Why…” He stiffened as Chan’s hand shifted, questing fingertips slipping in beneath his belt in the back.

 

Jun wanted to curse, barely managing to hold Minghao back as he moved to separate them. “Not now,” he hissed to him in rapid Mandarin, pointing him in the direction of the phone on the table. “If you touch him now, he’s going to see that as a challenge. Phone and see if Seungcheol-hyung can come and get him, or Soonyoung-ah. Or even Seokmin-ah, if you can find him.”

 

He cleared his throat. “It’s his rut,” he explained bluntly to Seungkwan. “His first one at least, I don’t think he knows what to do and the first time is always terrifying. Just… try to calm him down? I thought it was a few days out, but I could be wrong.” Pausing to take a breath, his posture stiffened as Seungkwan’s eyes widened with alarm. “What…? What is it?”

 

Seungkwan, panicking, tried to shove Chan away from him as a low, easy voice came from outside. “Kwan? Did you find him? I looked in the library, he’s not there either… what? Is something going on?” Despite the situation, despite everything going on his body flushed, betraying him as it usually did when he heard his boyfriend’s deep voice, and he suddenly realised what it’s going to smell like to Chan.

 

“Oh shit,” Jun said with feeling as Hansol stepped into the open door and Chan’s head slowly lifted, eyes bleeding red.

 

“Oh shit,” Minghao uttered, phone clattering from his hand as he jumped forward.

 

“Oh shiiiit,” Seungkwan whined as Chan flung his body protectively behind him and moved to growl right in Hansol’s face.

 

“Hmmmiiiiiine!” Chan snarled softly, deeply, caught fully in the grip of the hormones running amuck in his body.

 

“Call Seungcheol-hyung!” Minghao yelled over his shoulder at Jun as Seungkwan bounced painfully off a couch from Chan’s desire to see him safe.

 

The omega let out a cry of pain as his one leg hit the corner of a table, and he rolled off to the side, arms up to protect his head. “Stop them!” he called. “Hansollie, no, don’t attack him! He doesn’t know what he’s doing!”

 

 _Too late_ , Jun thought, fear paralysing him. _Too late…_

The laid-back rapper had a second to look surprised before Chan hit him with the full force of the muscular power in his lithe dancer’s body. His body bowed, flexed outwards into the corridor as the young wolf crashed his shoulder into his body. His breath whistled out of his lungs as he bounced off the opposite wall.

 

Minghao struck as quickly as the animal of his heritage, plucking Chan off and back, throwing him back into the office to try and contain the spectacle. Ice climbed up his spine as he heard the pained cry from Seungkwan though; instinct warned him to duck and he did, sinking down and kicking out of Hansol’s way.

 

For a second everything froze as Chan tried to pick himself up to attack again, and the only sound was the whimper from Seungkwan as he wove to his feet, holding his leg where it had impacted the sharp edge of the small coffee table.

 

Jun, almost front and centre, saw it first. The last time it had happened, he had not been close enough to Hansol. This time he could see his pupils flashing wide before shrinking to pinpricks. He picked himself up and charged, long legs propelling him forward as he roared with rage. In a flash he was past Minghao, past Jun, smashing the coffee table to kindling as he slammed into the space between Chan and Seungkwan. The wordless, warning growl vibrated angrily, pitched so low it hurt their ears and shook their bodies.

 

Seungkwan squeaked and covered his head again as the two alphas clashed against each other, Hansol’s tremendous strength and anger offset for a moment by Chan’s hormonal overdrive. He could faintly hear Jun-hyung scrabbling for the phone, saw Minghao-hyung from the corner of his eye as he ran to protect his boyfriend, but his attention locked on the two. “Seokmin!” he screamed over the massive noise. “Call Seokmin!”

 

Chan punched Hansol hard enough that his head slapped back, neck clicking with the force, but the mixed-breed alpha didn’t move an inch. Instead he slapped back, shoulder rolling with the motion, and lunged forward as Chan stumbled back. One hand, tendons showing on its back, lunged to wrap around Chan’s neck and he dug his fingers in, lifting him up and off the ground with a massive shrug of his shoulders. The warning that he gritted out was nearly inaudible, and his fingers started pinching in painfully into the carotid and jugular.

 

Jun swallowed, speechless. It was a side of the young rapper he had never seen before, not even on those pack bonding nights when everyone was encouraged to let go.

 

“No!” Seungkwan stumbled closer to wrap his arms around Vernon, standing on tip-toe to press his face into the taller alpha’s neck. “Sol, no, please don’t.” He pressed his lips against the sturdy structure of Hansol’s neck. “He didn’t hurt me. He’s just confused. You know how it is the first time, right…? You went through this too, right? Please don’t hurt him, jagi, please. He’s our friend.”

 

Chan struggled, swinging from the grip the half-and-half alpha had on his neck, scratching furrows along the strong arm to try and get free. His vision clouded, started filling in with darkness at the edges, and he fought for breath as his body teetered between a red rage and unconsciousness.

 

“Please,” Seungkwan repeated, resting a delicate hand on Hansol’s straining arm. “Come on back to me, okay? Come on. Let him go.” He pecked another kiss against Hansol’s neck, then down his jaw, and slowly started pushing down on the taut arm.

 

Minghao, still holding Jun behind him, breathed out his captive breath slowly as he saw reason return to Hansol’s eyes. He knew that fight of old: it was difficult and contrary to every emotion running wild, but it was also what separated people from the beasts blended with them. Seconds later, as his fellow alpha let Chan fall on the floor he breathed out a slow sigh and nodded, letting Seungkwan lead Hansol back and away.

 

“Seokmin-ah’s on his way,” Jun said, slowly approaching the panting, dizzy young wolf on the floor. He held out the phone, helped to fold Chan’s hand around it. “Talk to him, Chan-ah, he’s right there…”

 

Seungkwan bit his lip and pulled Hansol around into his arms, lifting a hand to press his face into his neck. His eyelids fluttered as his boyfriend slowly started to scent him, but tears started to prick at Chan’s vulnerable, wobbly “Seokkie?” that sounded in the suddenly-silent air. “Come on,” he whispered to his trembling boyfriend. “Come on, let’s go back to your place.”

 

* * *

 

Seokmin sped across the lawn heading to the studios, nearly running over Seungkwan and Hansol as they exited from the building. His friend looked grave, merely shaking his head and whispering a ‘talk later’. Hansol looked not quite there, lurching a little from side to side as the cat escorted him towards the university exit. Tightening his jaw, he crossed the rest of the distance at a quick lope, still hearing the ghost of the young crying wolf in his ears. Minghao-ah and Jun-hyung let him in the office before they pulled the door shut, leaving the two of them in there alone.

 

His beautiful Chan was on a corner of the banged-aside sofa now, still crying. It sounded so thick that Seokmin didn’t know how he was getting breath to continue, and it hurt his heart. Quickly, as quickly as he could, he sank down next to him and pulled the shorter wolf onto his lap, arms wrapping insistently around him. “Shhh,” he muttered, pulling Chan’s tear-wet face to his neck, one hand latching around the nape of his neck. “Shhh. Come on, calm down.”

 

Chan’s scent was ludicrously heavy and drenched, misty with sadness of course, but still carrying the pop-pop-pop of hot spices underneath. Jun’s screamed explanation had shocked him – he hadn’t even guessed the young alpha’s rut was approaching, but whatever had happened smelled as if it hastened the bell curve of it, dumping him into the viciousness without the climb to arousal first. “Channie,” he soothed, kissing his temple, then his cheek.

 

Chan hiccupped, curled into Seokmin’s taller form. He didn’t smell an omega, but he didn’t want to smell one ever again, not after that awful moment where he had lusted after Seungkwan. His throat hurt so much; he had to fight for breath before he calmed down a little. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen. Hyung, it hurts so much, I don’t know what to _do_?”

 

Seokmin pulled back a little to pick Chan’s face up between his palms. “Didn’t you feel it start gnawing at your gut? You should have told me earlier, jagi, I would never have left you alone.” His tongue clicked as he pulled the pointed chin up a little more and stared at the bruises forming. They were ugly splotches, some already shading towards back. “What happened?”

 

“I… I was feeling bad when I got back from classes this afternoon. Noises were too loud again and I felt so irritated… Minghao-hyung helped me to this office and when I saw Jun-hyung things just sort of clicked? I was okay, I was calming down, and then Seungkwan walked in and it all went wrong.” His face crumpled. “I didn’t want to... want to feel like that. It was just that he smelled so _good_ and everything was shouting at me to claim him and then Hansol-hyung came in as well and my head went around the twist. Hyung, I’m so _terrible_ …”

 

Seokmin cursed in the depths of his mind. As much as he loved his friend, Boo Seungkwan’s warm scent could be like catnip to an alpha, especially a young one that had no idea what to do with himself in such a situation. “You’re not terrible,” he instructed gently. “It’s just… really a big shock the first time. This is biology, Channie. We should have known your first heat might be problematic, with so many other strong alphas around. Come on. Stop crying and I’ll take you to the heat dorm, ok?”

 

Chan hiccupped, wiping at his eyes with his sleeves. “Don’t wanna go,” he muttered. “Can’t we just go somewhere and cuddle?”

 

Seokmin essayed a big smile. “We can cuddle in there? There’s no rule that says I have to leave you alone, they have couples’ rooms. Come on, let’s go and I’ll explain a few things, and tell you stories about my first time, and then we can see what happens.”

 

Chan took a deep breath and wiped his nose again. “I didn’t want him,” he said quietly but insistently. “I want you. I promise, Minnie. Just you.”

 

Smiling radiantly, Seokmin pressed his lips against Chan’s forehead, then each too-warm cheek and finally the purse of salty lips. “I believe you. Come on.”

 

* * *

 

Seungkwan sank down on Hansol’s bed, feeling tired and crabby. Hansol was still talking to Seungcheol-hyung about the incident, which gave him a chance to consider their fight earlier that day. Explaining it to his _hyungdeul_ made it feel silly and stupid now, and it made him wish that he wasn’t such a diva sometimes. It should have been him that got the cat tail, not Jihoon-hyung. Grimacing, he stripped his preppy shirt off slowly, tossing it on one of the migrant bundles of clothing that peppered his boyfriend’s room. His pants went next as he nibbled on his lip to consider the longline of bruising down his right, not to mention the imprint of fingers on his arm from where Chan had tossed him aside.

 

His head felt light as he measured the purpling splotches with his fingers. They were deep, already painful down to the bone, and they’d be worse tomorrow. Swallowing, he stood to get into an old pair of Hansol’s sweatpants, pausing in the act of reaching for a pastel tie-dye hoodie. His body reflected in the mirror tacked into the closet door. They swam on him, only pinching in at the waistband thanks to the elastic. When he twisted to see the faint, smeared shadows against his skin, his ribs popped out a little, making the line of his torso look odd. Grimacing, he hastily pulled the hoodie over his head and buried his face in the neck to inhale deeply.

 

“How bad is it?” Hansol asked from the doorway, startling him.

 

“Just a few bruises. He’s stronger than I thought.” Seungkwan lifted his head as the memory of his boyfriend holding Chan up effortlessly crossed his mind. “Is that what you get like when you’re in rut?”

 

Hansol considered him, keeping his distance for the moment. “The strength?” he finally asked. At Seungkwan’s nod he wandered to sit on his bed, scooting the chargers, books and the like off onto a shelf. “The strength is always there, but I’m more likely to draw you a bath and feed you snacks than start deadlifting.” He watched Seungkwan’s mouth do that pinched thing where he was trying not to laugh. “Am I capable of the bad dominance displays you read about in breed novels? Yeah. Do I want to try? No. The cucumber is a mighty teaching tool.”

 

At that Seungkwan broke down into giggles, feeling the tension flow out of his frame. Letting the hoodie’s hem flow down his thighs, he wandered back to the bed and pushed Hansol down flat on his back, moving to straddle him. “Will there really be snacks?” he asked wistfully. “I can’t remember much of my last heat, I slept through it. But Jihoon-hyung says sometimes Soonyoung-hyung has a bath and snacks ready when he’s had a really bad day because the pills made him skip a heat. It just sounds really nice?” He paused. “Are you very angry at what happened?”

 

Hansol smiled up at the guy that was fast claiming his heart. He had never thought he’d like anyone this high maintenance, but it was moments like these that made it all worth it.  “Kwan,” he murmured. “If I’m ever so fortunate to share one of your heats, or you share one of my ruts, there will be as many snacks as you want. Healthy or unhealthy.” His hands lifted to settle on his boyfriend’s hips. “No, I’m not angry. You’re not scared of me now?”

 

“Idiot,” Seungkwan muttered thickly, leaning down to kiss the smiling arch of Hansol’s lips. “I’m not scared of you. And I’m not scared of your family, just that I’m not good enough. I’d really… um, I have next weekend totally open, we don’t have practices. Did you want to go then? They’re just in Hongdae, it’s not so far from here.”

 

Hansol reached to card his floppy bangs to one side. “Thank you,” he said softly, feelingly.

 

Seungkwan’s eyes, already adapting to the dim room, focused on the tiny, fond smile lingering around the alpha’s lips. Today… today was _shitty_ but this moment here was worth gold, and he gave another step forward in his mind. Just the last of a series of patient steps, but it meant so much to him that his heart squeezed. “We should practice,” he got out hesitantly. “For the next time it’s one of us. Work on our stamina or something.”

 

Instead of trotting out a bad line about his stamina Hansol merely smiled again, slowly pulling him down until he could roll to curl around him. “Not yet,” he whispered against Seungkwan’s nape, pressing fluttery little butterfly kisses there. “I have plans. I promise you’ll like it, ok?” His big hand moved to settle on Seungkwan’s stomach, hauling him back into the curve of his harder body. “Stay with me tonight?”

 

Seungkwan’s only response was pulling the blanket over him and settling in for a nap.

 

* * *

 

Minghao admired the long, lean curve of Jun’s body as he sat back to watch him change. His boyfriend’s muscles moved smoothly underneath his skin, strong and lithe thanks to years as a gymnast. It fascinated him, having a boyfriend that was stronger than he was, never mind their secondary genders. It fascinated him when Jun lost all of that strength around him at times, when he pinned him down easily with a hand on his hip or fingers gentle on his throat. Right now, watching him slither from his dance clothes to get ready for a shower made him not only want to join him, but to press him up against the tiles and adore him like he _should_ be adored.

 

Wen Junhui was a clown underneath all that frantic work, and a softy underneath _that_.

 

“Have you forgiven me yet for jumping between you and Chan-ah?” he asked carefully, smiling at the irritated look Jun shot him over his shoulder. “You know I will every time, right?”

 

“Shǎguā,” Jun rebutted.

 

Minghao’s smile crept slightly wider as he propped his chin up on one knee. “It is my privilege and honour to defend you,” he said to appeal to Jun’s cheesy side. “So I will.”

 

Jun snorted again, leaving his boxers on but kicking his leggings off to the side before he turned to prowl and press Minghao back into the soft, comfortable beanbag, knees straddling his narrow hips. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” he said seriously. “And that wasn’t a battle. I’m older and I could handle the situation better. You jumped like a papa protecting his kits.”

 

Minghao looked up at Jun and wondered what a baby with Jun’s face would look like. It struck a chord deep inside himself, not because he had baby fever from Jihoon-hyung’s little discovery, but because he wanted to see that one day. His hands lifted to run up over Jun’s ribs and around to clasp around his back. “I protect my luck,” he said softly but earnestly, feeling the crack-crack-crack of love weakening the ice in his heart. He felt Jun’s taller frame melt against his, pressing him into the beanbag; for all that their dynamic was a fascinating display of sliding dominance, he loved this as well.

 

“I’m being serious,” Jun reproached.

 

Considering him carefully, Minghao nodded once to show understanding and sat silently as Jun ruffled his fingertips through the hair in the nape of his neck. It felt soothing, calming, and he closed his eyes slowly. Seconds later, feeling them depart as Jun stood to shower, he resolved again to protect him nonetheless. In a few seconds, he’d join him in the shower. For the moment, however, he again thanked his lucky stars for ending up here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. This chapter made possible by the lovely @junhaopyon on Twitter, without whom I would never want to write Junhao. 
> 



	5. Chapter 5

Mingyu opened the door a fraction and peered into Hansol’s room, eyes slowly adapting to see past the darkness that still veiled it. Things were difficult to make out, but some shapes revealed themselves in the tiny light from a charger: the smooth curve of a bare back, a hand resting on a hip, the feral amber and green glow of Hansol’s eyes as he opened them a bit. It was a movement as smooth as a snake almost, the way his hand slipped from Seungkwan’s hip to pull the blanket up and veil him from view.

 

“Almost time for gym,” Mingyu whispered softly.

 

Hansol nodded and Mingyu pulled the door closed, smiling at the slim shadow at his side. “He’ll be out in a bit,” he confirmed. “Someone slept over last night. It’s the first time, isn’t it?”

 

“Those two,” Wonwoo jeered, nose wrinkling as he loped away from the door to his room. “It’s disgusting how in love they are. Did he growl at you?”

 

“Nope, but he did cover him up in a flash.” Mingyu poked Wonwoo in the back. “Be kind, you know it’s not always been easy for him. I doubt he’s shown the kid all his secrets either.”

 

Wonwoo flinched back from the sharp fingertip. Instead of retaliating, he went to his closet and yanked out a bag to stuff his workout clothes in. Sweatshirt, sleeveless shirt, supplements and bottled water, before he reached up to catch a towel that Mingyu tossed him.

 

“Oh hey, do you...” Mingyu started.

 

“Yeah, I got an extra bottle in there for you,” Wonwoo said as he hauled the bag up and swung it over his shoulder. “And another pair of socks – stop fucking using mine because you lose them, I’m almost out.” Ignoring Mingyu’s pout, he sauntered outside and down the stairs, just in time for the front door to open for their pack alpha.

 

“ _Hyung_ ,” he greeted easily. “How’s Chan?”

 

Seungcheol wrinkled his nose. “He’s doing okay. Seokmin’s staying with him for the moment, his hormones really are in a mess.” His mouth curved proudly. “I heard some woman at the heat dorm was giving them sass, complaining about two alphas in the same room when the one’s in rut, and Seokmin shut her down so quickly her head spun. He’s not going to leave Chan anytime soon.”

 

The slight frown between Wonwoo’s brows relaxed. “That’s… that’s good. I was a bit worried.”

 

“Should have known better,” Mingyu said as he strolled down the staircase shirtless, showing off his new tattoos. “It’s Seokmin _-hyung_. He’s actually sunshine. Hey _hyung_.” He jumped the last few steps, gave Seungcheol a back-slapping hug and jerked his chin upstairs. “We have a visitor, Kwannie’s here. Hansol’s feeling a little, um, off.”

 

“Hansol had to put Chan down earlier,” Seungcheol said as he shrugged out of his jacket. “I’m not surprised he’s feeling off. I am surprised he didn’t snap more, Chan hurt Seungkwanie when they fought over him, Jun says. Give me five and I’ll be ready to leave. Who’s driving today?”

 

“I am!” Mingyu reported. “After that, can we swing by the store please? I need some things for dinner tonight, or are you eating out again, _hyung_?”

 

“And by that he means ‘Who are you eating out tonight, _hyung_?’” Wonwoo got in as he swung his gym back over one of Mingyu’s broad shoulders. “I don’t even know where we are on your girlfriend roster.”

 

Seungcheol didn’t blush, but he did punch Wonwoo on the shoulder in passing. “I’ll be at home tonight,” he said with a straight face. “Hannie insisted. He and Jisoo will be coming over, and Kwannie might stay over too. Five minutes.”

 

Snorting with mirth, Wonwoo made for the kitchen as their alpha ran up the stairs, ready to collect the bottles of protein shake for their workout snacks.

 

* * *

 

Hansol returned from the bathroom with his contacts in, sneaking into his room. Seungkwan was still sprawled out half-naked on his bed – it made something low in his belly settle – and he dressed as quickly as he could before he moved to sit back on the bed. Slowly, lazily, he traced his hand gently over his boyfriend’s shoulder and thought of the sulky fit there had been earlier because his hoodie had been ‘too warm’. It allowed him to lean down and trace his nose up the vulnerable stretch of neck, inhaling deeply as his palm settled over the cusp of the delicate shoulder. “Kwan,” he muttered softly. “Wake up.”

 

Seungkwan mumbled, made a questioning noise and turned over towards his warmth, fists curling beneath his chin. “Nggrf.”

 

“I’m going to gym with the _hyungdeul_ ,” Hansol muttered into his neck. “Sleep some more, okay?”

 

A knock came to his door and he looked up to find Seungcheol peeking inside. The older alpha’s nose wrinkled but he looked happy as he nodded, holding up one finger to indicate the time and closed the door with an ‘Invite him to dinner.’

 

“Dinner?” Hansol queried as he stroked the petal-soft skin down the bridge of Seungkwan’s nose. At the murmur of acceptance, he leant down to kiss the ruffled roan hair and made for the door.

 

* * *

 

Chan, curled up in a miserable pile on the bed in the heat dorm, tried not to feel the fire in his gut. It felt as if something primal had claws in him and he craved release like others craved chocolate. He was in a strange headspace as well, hating the fire of his biology and how he had lost his head, yet being aware that his body could care less what he thought right now. He wanted to fuck something – someone? – into the _ground_. Even the sound of the door opening behind him made him flinch, as well as the lovely scent that curled in towards his super-sensitive nose.

 

Seokmin smelled of rich, earthy loam and forests and natural things, like the smell of rain on sun-warmed stone. Above it his cologne was a crisp clean something and the two mixed rather well, but it didn’t have that heaviness, that punch-in-the-gut sweetness of an omega’s scent.

 

 _‘It doesn’t matter,’_ he thought, struggling with the wolf inside him. ‘ _Seokmin is worth ten omegas.’_

 

His body still didn’t want to listen, but that’s when he ignored it and rolled over at the thud of a heavy box on the bedside table. His boyfriend had a soft smile on his face for him as he started to ruffle through it. First came a bottle of water which he cracked open because Chan’s hands were trembling too much, then a packet with what looked like a couple of small green pills. Third came… third came…

 

Chan’s mind stuttered. Third came what looked like a dildo, then a couple of stretchy cuffs, then those trace element supplements they sometimes gave athletes and really dehydrated people. A huge box of condoms came fourth, then an industrial-sized box of wet-wipes. He stared at the sum total of all the things with wide eyes, reaching up to wipe his annoyingly sweaty bangs out of his face. “I’m guessing that this is going to be some kind of story,” he said shyly as he sat upright, forgetting about the fire in his belly for a moment.

 

Seokmin grinned at him. It wasn’t lascivious but there was _something,_ something that darkened his loam-brown eyes to something black, more intent. He didn’t reply immediately, just changed the air-con in the room that the temperature dropped a few degrees, enough to give his boyfriend some surcease from the heat. “That depends on what you want to get out of your rut,” he murmured, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “The tablets will put you asleep if you don’t want to deal with it at all. You’ll be horny as fuck afterwards, but you’ll have a clear head again.”

 

Making a vague, muttering noise, Chan reached for the set of stretchy cuffs, not quite brave enough to pick the dildo up yet. He examined them, feeling the odd spongy material, but said nothing as he dropped them in his lap and reached for the box of condoms yet. “These don’t look like our normal brand,” he mutters, turning them to and fro.

 

“They’re for knots,” Seokmin said easily as he fished a huge bottle of lube from the depths of the box. “You don’t really need them until your first rut, yours won’t pop until then. It might not afterwards either, not unless you sleep with an omega, but during your rut it can and might happen. We just didn't need them until now.”

 

“I don’t want to sleep with an omega,” Chan muttered, ears reddening. “I want to sleep with you. No matter how unnatural people think that is.”

 

Seokmin considered him, then leant forward to gently kiss the upset purse of his mouth. He kissed him until the stiffness of the pout left his lips, until his younger boyfriend made a breathy, encouraging kind of noise, until he got a gently nipped lower lip for his trouble. Sighing happily, he pulled back. “It’s not unnatural,” he lectured afterwards. “You’re not a slave to your biology. It’s just something you have to live with and make your peace with. Are you going to tell Jihoon _-hyung_ that he has to be dainty and delicate just because he’s an omega?”

 

Chan shuddered at the thought. “I don’t want to die that badly,” he muttered and reached out to pull Seokmin down next to him, tossing the things in his lap back into the box so that he could get his cuddles in. “I don’t even want to think about him whilst I’m in here.”

 

“Fair enough,” Seokmin laughed. He wrapped his arms around Chan and pulled him slowly closer until they lay face to face on their sides, arms draped over each other and legs twining together. “So, the first time I had a rut I was at a posh circus performance my parents and I had been invited to. You know that year they spent as cultural liaisons in Greece, right? I told you about that? Two years ago… man, I was turned on and I was scared for my life because I thought I had gotten a boner over a clown.”

 

Chan blinked and burst out laughing. “What? _Hyung_ , I thought you hated clowns.”

 

“Don’t laugh,” Seokmin pouted, directing his attention to slowly unbuttoning Chan’s shirt. “It was one of those cultural events and I was maybe a little gone on the champagne and watching the clowns come spilling out of this tiny car. I was a little tipsy and really warm, and the place stunk to high heaven anyway because it was summer and there were no bio-pumps in the tent so I didn’t notice. All I know is that I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and the scariest clown of my acquaintance was coming along to the VIP section and bam, boner.”

 

Chan, giggling softly, shrugged out of his open shirt and sighed with relief at the cool air over his torso, hands reaching down towards his buckle. “What did you do?” he asked as he helped Seokmin out of his shirt as well. “Was it a lady or a gentleman clown?”

 

“A guy. I mean, I don’t mind girls and I’ve slept with a few, but that clown was definitely a guy. And what’s worse is that I shrieked like a girl and wanted to get away but everyone was going to notice so I had to curl up and he thought I was just shy and came to take a photo with me. He literally clowned around in front of us and I couldn’t run screaming like I wanted, and I didn’t want my mother to know that I popped one like that.” Seokmin smiled and hitched Chan closer by his waistband. “Joke was on me, she found out and until today she gets this _look_ in her eyes when the topic comes up and I _know_ she’s remembering.”

 

Watching his boyfriend’s tall, muscular torso shift as he pulled off his pants, Chan grinned savagely. “Should I go and get some face paint? Or the clown shoes… hey! No pinching!” He wriggled away from the fingers that had pinched at his thigh, pouting. “Look, I can’t help where you get your kinks from…” He inhaled sharply as Seokmin kissed his stomach gently, large hands firm on the outside of his hips to keep him down and stationary. His stomach fluttered, clenched, and he shut his eyes as he moaned softly.

 

“Channie,” Seokmin murmured against his skin as he kissed his way down to one hip. “The moral of the story is that this has very little to do with your mind. Don’t fight it, don’t feel miserable about it. My aim right now is to make you feel as loved as possible, in whatever way I can, because this isn’t some kind of dirty little secret that you have to suffer through.”

 

Chan bit his lip as he looked down at the dark head so nearly in his lap, shivering and squirming. “I want you to make love to me,” he said softly. “Whilst it’s not too bad. And then, um, I want you to show me how to do it to you so that I don’t hurt you when I get too deep in the rut. It gets pretty mindless, right? I don’t want to hurt you, _hyung_. If that’s ok? Can I… um…”

 

Seokmin lifted his head. “Can you what?”

 

“Can I be on top?” Chan rushed to ask. “Please?”

 

Seokmin gave him a sunny smile and leant to kiss him on the nose. “Of course.”

 

Chan grinned, coiled dancer’s muscles and _pounced._

 

Settling on Seokmin’s lap abated the fire in the pit of his stomach a little. He had been there before, they had had sex before, but never with him on hop. He liked… _loved_ looking down at his chiselled features against the pillow, seeing his forehead open and vulnerable. He rocked his hips once, twice just to find the right spot, grinning savagely when Seokmin groaned softly underneath him.

 

He wanted to feel his skin, to crawl inside him; hands shaking, he reached down to Seokmin’s belt to undo it, pulling it slowly out before sliding the zipper down tooth by tooth. Curving his hand a little, his fingertips brushed the part in the material open wider. Wider, _wider_ , until the back of his fingers brushed over his boyfriend’s hardening cock through soft cotton, pulling a long moan from him. Reaching up, he guided pants and underwear down as one, swallowing when Seokmin’s cock smacked against his belly, thick and potent.

 

Leaning up towards the bedside table, he fumbled for the bottle of lube and thrust it into Seokmin’s hand hungrily; he might have asked for lovemaking, but the more he looked at his boyfriend’s long, caramel lines the more fucking sounded really, _really_ good. He leant down to kiss his breastbone, lips curving in a line to feel his heart thud-thud-thud against his lips. “Seokkie,” he whispered against one flat brown nipple. “Seokkie, god, I want you.” His teeth bared, sinking a small nip into Seokmin’s flesh before sucking a slow, deep bruise over his ribcage.

 

Seokmin sucked his breath in deeper, then deeper still, filling his belly with air before losing it on a shuddering moan. He felt his hands curve around the bottle of lube, momentarily stupid, and his hips stuttered up as Chan’s warm, pretty mouth settled around the tip of his cock. His wolf was fierce about it, hungry almost, suckling and licking insistently with none of his usual delicate restraint. It made the bonfire that had been growing explode; he had always been the more dominant of the two of them, but he could feel that changing in the way that Chan palmed his hip confidently to keep him still, the way he pushed him down into the depths of the bed when he tried to roll over.

 

“No,” Chan growled as he pulled his mouth free with a pop. “Mine. My turn.” He looked up, flashing teeth and Seokmin had to swallow from an exquisite mix of trepidation and lust. His eyes were startlingly coloured, brandy brown with hints of deepest ruby wine, and as he watched his eyeteeth grew just a little more prominent as genuine-to-God claws raked delicately at his hip. “Be a good puppy for me, _dangshin,_ and lube me up whilst I suck you off.”

 

 _Holy shit,_ Seokmin thought weakly, having to struggle to get the bottle open. _I’m going to be so fucking ruined at the end of this._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Some mentions of a type of gender dysphoria, sensitive issues regarding pregnancy, and homophobia. Please don't read if any of these trigger you.

“I’m sorry, you’re not pregnant.”

 

The doctor’s voice reverberated through the deathly silence in the room until each syllable sounded like a tiny piece of glass in Jihoon’s ears. He had heard her talk plenty of times on his visits before, had quantified her as a spinto in the back of his mind. Now the words blurred in his mind and he couldn’t think. Two weeks. Two weeks of thinking about having children, of working himself around to the idea of having children, and now here she was, yanking the carpet from under his feet again.

 

“Are you sure?” he heard Soonyoung asked in a tight voice as he clenched his hand. In the great roaring nothingness of his mind came a thought: _my hands are sweaty._ Hot on its heels came nausea at the thought that he’d care about that, that he’d care about anything. His heart didn’t know whether it wanted to be sad or happy. He didn’t want children, he had _never_ wanted children, but two weeks of the idea of a child with Soonyoung’s eyes, or his nose. Two weeks of bearing the secret and suspecting and fear.

 

God, the fear. Suddenly he wasn’t afraid that he was pregnant. Suddenly he was afraid that he wasn’t pregnant.

 

The doctor’s smile was sympathetic. “I’m very sure,” she said softly, pulling a pack of tissues out and handing them over the desk. “You’re definitely on the pill. You’re still regularly taking them, right?”

 

 _Funny,_ Jihoon thought distantly. _I’m not crying, why…?_

It wasn’t until Soonyoung let go of his hand and touched a tissue to his cheeks that he realised he _was_ crying. Tears streamed down his cheeks and abruptly he didn’t know where to go, or what to do. He snatched the pack of tissues from his mate’s hand and got up awkwardly, keeping a stoic face on as he left the doctor’s rooms.

 

Soonyoung caught up with him in the male bathroom where he was hunched over a sink, dizzy and crying as if his heart would break. He had gotten sick, had barely managed to get up again.

 

“Jihoonie…”

 

For the first time in years he didn’t look, didn’t guard his heart. Instead he lunged and wrapped his arms around his tiger’s waist to cry his shirt wet.

 

“It’s okay,” Soonyoung whispered against his hair. “It’s okay, kitten, really it is. She says it’s hormonal, that it happens…”

 

“It doesn’t happen to me!” Jihoon snarled through his tears. “It doesn’t happen to omegas, they’re born to breed, this shouldn’t be happening! I’m defective or something.”

 

Soonyoung stiffened under his hold but his hold remained gentle even if his voice firmed a little. “Lee Jihoon. Stop thinking in stereotypes,” he scolded softly into one ear. “You’re not defective at all. I would have embraced our kids, love, but it wasn’t the right time. That doesn’t mean it won’t ever be the right time? It’s a shock, I know, but I don’t blame you at all. For all we know, it’s my fucked-up genetics doing this. My mom struggled to have me too, it could very well be, you know?”

 

Jihoon cried harder when he thought of the one incognito tab on his browser where he had cautiously looked up baby clothes just before they had the appointment.

 

“Listen,” Soonyoung urged, one palm cupping the back of his neck. “We can try. I don’t mind us trying. Anything you want, love. I promise. Don’t see this as… as a failure. See it as a chance to learn how to be parents first? Come on, of course Lee Jihoon will be the best parent ever, but Kwon Soonyoung? He needs some training first, and we need to get married first, and all that kind of thing.”

 

Miraculously, Jihoon found he could still feel a trace of amusement through his confusion and sorrow. “Idiot,” he hiccupped wetly into Soonyoung’s shirt. “Kwon Soonyoung would have… would have been the best dad ever. You already have Dino.”

 

Soonyoung pulled away a little to try and wipe his cheeks dry. “Stop being sad?” he lured. “Please? It breaks my heart when you are and if Seungcheol- _hyung_ finds out he’s going to kill me.”

 

“Sadness doesn’t stop just like that,” Jihoon got out, looking away from his stupidly earnest face.

 

“I know,” Soonyoung said softly. “But baby, you haven’t even introduced me to your parents yet. Perhaps we should start there?”

 

Jihoon sniffled one last time, feeling miserable and soggy, and nodded. “I guess if this doesn’t make you leave, nothing will.”

 

Soonyoung reached to tilt his chin up a little. “Nothing could make me leave,” he murmured. “I love you, Lee Jihoon.”

 

* * *

 

Junhui looked at the gym’s entrance and tried not to be nauseous. Yesterday had been a bad enough day, what with one thing and the other, and he had promised himself bravery. Now, standing on the threshold of the gymnasium he had to force himself to keep concentrating on the door. It loomed, bringing up old memories of how he had worked, how badly he had wanted to win the Olympic gold. Of how he woke up an omega one day, of the way his father and his coach had looked at him with scorn and pity after that.

 

Of seeing people he had been better than rushing past him as he struggled to retain his muscle tone, as he tried to force his body to do what he wanted to do.

 

Beside him Seungkwan shifted uneasily, picking up the atmosphere. “ _Hyung_ ,” he said softly. “ _Hyung_ , you have the worst look on your face.” Gently, so delicately he didn’t feel it at first, a smaller hand twined around his, squeezed softly. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this.”

 

“No,” Junhui said hoarsely. “Because this is a lesson too, Seungkwanie. Come on.”

 

He walked the younger omega inside and inhaled as the smell of sweat and exertion hit him: heated powder, the chemical gymnasts sprayed when they got rips. Acrid almost, but also welcoming, bringing up a thousand more memories.

 

“I was in training for the Tokyo Olympics,” Jun explained softly as he led him around the busy floor. “I must have been exercising over six hours a day, and that’s just in my own time. I was in a special school too, I was already on the national team and I thought I was just special, you know? That young and already sure that I was going to become an alpha. My father had been, his father had been, all the way back for like six generations. And then I fell sick and two days later I got up as an omega.”

 

Seungkwan squeezed his hand wordlessly to encourage him.

 

Jun smiled thinly. “Everyone told me that it didn’t matter, that I could still go on. I was in peak condition. But then in the next year my body started changing as well. Not a lot, but enough that I started having trouble keeping up. Just enough to make my contemporaries surge past me. Do you know what the hard thing about men’s gymnastics is?” He pulled them both down on a set of chairs.

 

“The diet?” Seungkwan tried.

 

“That too,” Jun muttered. “But no. It takes so much muscular strength to do it, you have to be so _strong_. Alphas pack on muscles easier. Betas can do it too, even if they struggle a bit more. Strength and control. After a while I couldn’t keep up on things like the rings, which had been my favourite before. I felt as if my body betrayed me.”

 

Seungkwan swallowed and nodded. “I had always known I was an omega, I couldn’t think how difficult it must have been for you, _hyung_. To go from that to… to…” He snapped his mouth shut, unable to continue.

 

Jun nodded, deep in memories. “I chose to leave it entirely. I could have struggled, but it would never have been the same again. And now I see you struggling with the same things that I did, keeping my identity as a man against my secondary gender and public opinion, and it hurts my heart. I did it too, what you’re doing now. I dieted and exercised as if I could exorcise the fact that I’m omega, but that would never have happened. No matter how much my father drove me, how much I drove myself. It’s biology, you know?”

 

Seungkwan squeezed his hand hard, biting down into his plump lower lip. “I hate biology,” he whispered softly. “I hate it so much, it makes fools of all of us. Look at us, and look at Soonyoung- _hyung_ , he has to be so careful with his temper every day, and Hansollie, and Seungcheol- _hyung_. And now the thing with Jihoon- _hyung_ … I don’t know what to think anymore. I want to go back sometimes.”

 

Jun took a deep breath. “There’s no way to do that,” he said softly, looking at the parallel bars in front of him. “All we can do is go forward. And that starts now. Come on, as your _hyung_ , I will teach you what I learnt. As stupid as it sounds, I never did the first step, which is facing your demons…”

 

* * *

 

The knock on the apartment door startled Minghao into dropping his book. He frowned, tried to remember any appointment. Junhui would still be out with Seungkwan, things were suspiciously quiet on the Chan front, and he hadn’t ordered anything… slipping his glasses off, he stood and wandered to the door, fluffing his hair neatly before he pulled it open.

 

He didn’t recognise the man on the other side and from the way the man looked at him, they shared that.

 

“I’m sorry,” the man said with a little bow. “I must have the apartment wrong. Do you by any chance know which one Wen Junhui stays in?”

 

Minghao frowned a little, but years of being polite pulled him into a little bow as well. “This is the correct one, ge. Ah, may I please know who you are?”

 

The man straightened. “I’m Wen Zhang Wei, Junhui’s father.” His eyes darted to the apartment behind Minghao, then back to him. “Are you my son’s roommate?”

 

Minghao swallowed and stepped aside as the man stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He had heard some stories about the man, stories that didn’t paint him in the best of lights, and he could see why. Even as he sat down, he still kept his imperious posture and the frown looked engraved on his face. “I stay with him, ge,” he said carefully. “My name is Xu Minghao, I’m not sure if your son has ever spoken to you about me.”

 

The man’s face grew even harder as he studied Minghao. “You’re an alpha,” he said at long length after a wrinkle of strong nostrils. “He has mentioned some nonsense about being in a relationship with you. I came to see for myself whether that was true and to tell him to pull himself together. It’s bad enough that he shamed my family by being an omega, I don’t need him to lump homosexuality on top of that. I thought Korea would be safe in that regard, but clearly not.”

 

Try as he might, Minghao couldn’t quite breathe. He had had some confrontational episodes in his life but none that struck him like this. Deep in his heart he wondered why he was reeling so. “I am sorry that that is your opinion,” he tried to say. “Your son is a very good man, he…”

 

“…my son is a failure on numerous levels in life. My wife’s coddling of him made him weak. I had come to deliver the news about our divorce and bring him back to China where he belongs.” Junhui’s father stood to cross to the window. “Clearly it’s too late in certain aspects, but luckily no news of it has spread at home. I have a good marriage prospect lined up for him. You will absent yourself from his side immediately.”

 

Minghao felt his heart drop to his stomach as he surged straight. “I will never…”

 

“Is it a matter of money?” the man said icily. “You want money not to tarnish his name any more than you two already have?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Tell me what your price is.”

 

The feeling crawled to Minghao’s stomach, reached his liver, his abdomen, until it felt as if he wanted to throw up. For a second he actually thought it was nausea, until he felt the clench in his gut, the way his heart sped up from the adrenaline. Xu Minghao rarely got angry enough to yell, but this asshole had managed it in less than five minutes’ exposure. The mere thought of this piece of trash thinking that Junhui had a price in his heart made him see red. Blood thudded in his ears and his jaw ached as a growl slipped from rip, one that mutated into an agitated bark somewhere in his throat.

 

“You…” Instinct mangled the sound. “Put that away right now.”

 

Wen Zhang Wei sneered at him. “Boy, I am double your age,” he rasped out. “Don’t tell me what to do when it concerns my son. I will end you.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do with my mate,” Minghao snarled back, hackles trying to ripple where he had none. “How _dare_ you come in here and tell him what to do with his life.”

 

The blow came out of nowhere and picked him up with the force of it, slamming him back over the couch. He had a second to breathe before he saw the older man rush him, and he tasted the tang of iron in his mouth from a cut cheek. The red from earlier choked him; an angry fox got up from the floor to meet the foot trying to kick him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Please don't kill me. The story was always going to be that he's not actually pregnant right off the bat. They have so many things to do still, and there will still be a pregnancy, but it will come around a lot more organically. 
>   2. People struggle with gender and body identity for various reasons, and are constantly shamed for their struggles. I want this to be a story where you can learn to be accepting and strong with the characters, to learn to accept yourself as the beautiful person that you are. 
>   3. I don't know what Junhui's dad's real name is, and I doubt he's an absolute ass like this guy. Nevertheless, homophobia is an issue in South Korea, and why should having an additional gender do anything but muddle that issue even further? To everyone out there struggling with this kind of thing in secret, I madly respect you. I know how tough my own struggles are and that's with a loving mother. 
>   4. This chapter is for Pam, who I wronged. I am still so sorry. :/ 
> 



	7. Chapter 7

Waking up in his own bed was a luxury for Seungcheol. Waking up between two warm bodies wasn’t, so the dichotomy of it tickled at his senses as he struggled to think. Even with his eyes slitted he could see sunlight against the heavy curtains of his room. There was something that nagged at him, enough to pull him out of the drowsy desire to sleep some more, or to roll over and wake one of his companions.

 

He breathed in slowly.

 

_Jeonghan. Jisoo._

 

His betas weren’t jealous; hell, they weren’t even wolves, but that’s part of what made them ideal for his pack. They were content to go their own way most of the time, but there were moments that Jeonghan put his foot down, demanded his rightful share of his alpha’s attention, and where Jeonghan went Jisoo followed. They had sat him down at the beginning of the relationship and told him how things were going to be; more than half of him wished they had these moments more often. All of him wished they didn’t hide it so much from the boys.

 

He loved Jeonghan and Jisoo with an unholy passion and he got them so rarely that the moment simply didn’t make sense: why was he waking up on one of the very few days he could spend guilt-free with them?

 

Mind still sluggish, he tried to trace down what might be worrying him. Chan and Seokmin were still in the heat dormitory, so not that. Hansol had spent the night cuddling Kwan in his room, so not that either. Mingyu and Wonwoo were around, he could feel them somewhere in the apartment. That left the cats and the foxes; he pitied the person that stressed out Soonyoung and Jihoon in their current states, which left…

 

He had been more than glad welcoming the Chinese duo into his proto-pack; Jun was funny and sweet and the most athletic being he had seen, and Minghao somewhat savage but constantly on the go.

 

Something was wrong, something was _odd._ There was no way he should be feeling anything wrong without access to their scent and its pheromones but it was there, rooting in his hind-brain the more he thought about it. Frowning, he lifted Jisoo’s arm from his waist and reached above his head as he sat up, pulling his phone off the headboard shelf. Carefully, very slowly, he bit down on the casing and crawled out of bed, shoulders cracking from the workout yesterday. Grimacing – Jeonghan was sprawled like a starfish again – he moseyed to the bathroom and went through his messages.

 

Nothing.

 

And yet, the worm still nibbled the back of his mind.

 

For a moment he fervently wished he had lo-jacked everyone like he had threatened numerous times, and tried not to feel guilty about that.

 

More insistence that something was wrong. More…

 

_Minghao?_

 

All the pack members had one last option, a pre-arranged message they only sent if in trouble. Minghao’s had been set up to be virtually automatic; he couldn’t type at speed in hangul yet, still had to worry about some of the phrasing. Still, nothing had come through.

 

He stomped back into the room, less Seungcheol the player and more Seungcheol the pack alpha. “Wake up,” he said as he kicked the bottom of the bed, voice still gruff with sleep, whilst he pulled on a pair of sweats and hunted for his keys. “Jeonghan-ah, make sure Jun and Seungkwan are at the gym, then Jihoon and Soonyoung. Jisoo-ya, check that everyone else that should be here are here.” He tossed his phone to Jisoo and turned to the wardrobe, hauling out a clean hoodie. “I think one of the kids is in trouble. Check Minghao first.”

 

Jeonghan’s eyes opened a fraction, blinking sleepily at him, but Jisoo’s husky-blue irises were fully on show, and he nodded as he scrambled out of bed and into a pair of pants as well. Seconds later, seeing the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders Jeonghan was up as well, reaching for his phone. No grumbling, no dominance plays, just instant alertness. God, he loved them.

 

Seungcheol left it to them and ran out the bedroom, pausing only to scrabble for his wallet and keys on the way down. Jisoo was hot on his trail, opening doors and checking noses, and he had barely gotten everything before Jeonghan leant over the railing, still half-naked.

 

“Minghao’s not answering,” Jeonghan called over the balustrade. “Jun and Seungkwan are on their way home. Soonyoung says there are some issues, but he’s sorting them out. It’s not them.”

 

“Everyone else is where they should be,” Jisoo said tautly as he reached for his wallet as well. “I’ll drive.”

 

Seungcheol didn’t argue. His American beta drove as if he was constantly trying to audition for the Fast and the Furious; speed was what they needed now, he could deal with tickets later. “Get the pack up!” he called over his shoulder to Jeonghan.

 

He heard the ruckus in the apartment from the street. Instead of wasting time waiting for the lift he ran up the stairs to the ninth floor and accelerated down the hallway as the feeling of something _wrong_ tugged him forward. Without pause, without thought he reared back as he reached the apartment door and kicked it open with all his strength. As it splintered before him, he saw Minghao flail back from a punch to his face, blood flying in a thick spray.

 

For a moment all he could do was stare as Minghao scrambled back up and jumped on the man. His _dongsaeng_ was fighting less like the Wushu champion he was and more like a street dog – a _stupid_ street dog, with no finesse and no technique. He was bent on defending more than putting his attacker down, and it didn’t help that the older man was a really good fighter from what he could see. He jerked forward with a thunderous growl, intent on pulling him off Minghao, trying to find a place in the hurricane of feet, knees, elbows and hands to intervene.

 

“ _Hyung_ , no! It’s Jun’s dad, it’s…” Minghao, likely panicked by the feel of another predator on the scene, made a critical mistake and pulled his gaze away to look at Seungcheol.

 

Faster than the eye could see, the older man swiped twice, a quick one-two across Minghao’s belly in that unguarded moment; the fox, seeing the movement from the corner of his eye sucked his gut in, but blood splashed in a wide arc, splattering on the walls of the apartment and he fell with a scream of pain.

 

Seungcheol went blind with rage. Jumping over the back of the couch he kicked the older man off Minghao as he jumped for him again, combat boot impacting against his arm. It shattered, driving him into a hunched-over position and he kicked him again, putting enough power behind hit that he flew to smash into the TV and the heavy outer wall of the apartment building behind it, eliciting another snap as something in his hip broke. He didn’t care. “Get an ambulance!” he screamed over his shoulder, hands frantically trying to pull Minghao’s away from his belly to see the extent of the damage.

 

Torn skin and muscle glistened raw in the claw wounds, and there was enough blood to cover his hands to the wrist. Minghao was barely holding on, eyes fluttering as he sunk into unconsciousness. Shrugging his shirt off Seungcheol pressed it against the wounds hard, though he couldn’t see any internal organs, and slapped Minghao hard with his other hand. “Fucking stay awake!” he yelled at him, uncaring, too afraid that if he closed his eyes he’d just slip away right underneath their hands. “Stay awake, that is an order from your alpha!” His voice rumbled with dominance as he put his all into it.

 

“They’re coming!” Jisoo yelled vaguely behind him, huffing and puffing. “I called the police too…”

 

“ _Hyung_?” another voice drifted up the stairs and Seungcheol cursed, recognising Jun’s voice and Seungkwan’s laughter not far behind. “Jisoo- _hyung_ , what’s going on? Has there been a break-in?”

 

Jun’s dad shifted and groaned, made to crawl from his spot, but Seungcheol jerked his gaze up and pinned him with it. “Stay. Still. Or. I. Kill. You,” he snarled, command punching with each syllable.

 

“Jun-ah, no… don’t go in… shit, you slippery weasel, don’t go in!”

 

Too late. Jun ducked past Jisoo, feet nearly carrying him in as he rocked to a halt.

 

Seungkwan’s scream made up for Jun’s dreadful grey silence.

 

“Kwan,” Jisoo snapped behind them. “ _Move_. Go and get some towels for _hyung_. Jun, get in there and help him keep Minghao awake.” He pushed them both into moving, which had Seungcheol grimacing with appreciation at him, and casually turned to punch Jun’s dad out with a single sweet strike, nose wrinkling. Somehow, Seungcheol wasn’t quite sure how, he turned to stop the neighbours as well, and seconds later had sweet-talked an ahjumma into watching out for the police.

 

Jun landed next to him and started talking to Minghao desperately, Mandarin flowing past so fast that he couldn’t understand it, but the older omega had the young fox alpha’s jaw firmly in his hands, and was looking him straight in the eye. Seungkwan, scrambling around splinters and a ruined couch, sunk down next to him, pressing a folded grey towel to Minghao’s waist tightly as he removed his hands.

 

 _Fuck_ , Seungcheol thought as he sat back on his heels, bloodied hands draping awkwardly. _Fuck, we can’t lose him. Whoever’s listening, please don’t take him from us, okay? Please…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * This is short and sweet, just to let the fight shine. 
>   * Alpha Seungcheol finally gets a chance to let loose a little. 
>   * It's canon that Seungcheol knows taekwondo and is in fact a black belt, I think. 
> 



	8. Chapter 8

All hospital waiting rooms had an aura of desperation about them, soaked in by the emotions of those waiting to hear good news. It wasn’t physical so much as a smear across the aether of the place, but underlined by the harsh smell of chemicals and nervous sweat. Jun didn’t find any peace in it. In the beginning he had paced, to and fro, to and fro, and none of the people waiting with him had said a word, though one of the nurses made him and Seungcheol wash their hands. When he had gotten tired of pacing, he took a seat in the corner and huddled on it, chewing on a rough spot on the inside of his cheek as he tried to get his thoughts in order.

 

His father had come from China. His father had come from China to _fetch him_ , and somehow there had been a fight between him and Minghao. Knowing his father, the old man had started everything. He was somewhere in the hospital as well, and Jun had left a message on his mother’s phone.

 

Minghao had looked white and lifeless in the ambulance ride over; it had been sheer luck that he had darted back in to collect their medical information or he wouldn’t have known his blood type, or allergies, or… shit, he couldn’t think, his mind was a garbled mess. Squinting his eyes tightly shut, he restarted the prayer that he had left somewhere along the line.

 

A light touch on his wrist compelled him from the self-inflicted meditative state and his eyes slammed open. Seconds later his shoulders slumped as Jeonghan sank down on his haunches next to him. “It’s okay,” his hyung said sturdily, scent fresh and forthright, delicately spiced with the scent of pack. “He’ll be okay. Minghao-ah is a fighter. We need to get you changed though, your clothes are a mess. Seungcheol’s already signing the medical forms, and the rest of the pack is at your apartment with the police. Come on, get up.”

 

Jun let himself be led, unequal to the task of arguing. His clothes were filthy with blood splatter. It took far longer than he thought, but Jeonghan helped him pull his workout clothes off, put them in a bag and helped him into fresh clothing after a quick scrub in one of the bathrooms. Once or twice his knees wanted to collapse, and once he caught himself clawing at a cabinet at the thought of what he wanted to do to his father.

 

Anger and desperation had long since made a mess in the pit of his stomach.

 

The walk back to the waiting room was a little better now that he no longer had Minghao’s scent so fresh in his nose, and when he sunk down in the chair again Seungcheol was there to pull him close. Tired of fighting, he drooped his head sideways to rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder, wishing it could be Minghao instead.

 

“Do you want one of the omegas in here with you?” his pack alpha asked softly. “Seungkwanie volunteered, and I can get Jihoon-ah if you need him.”

 

Biting his lip, Jun nodded. “Seungkwan please,” he muttered hoarsely. “But will you stay as well?”

 

Seungcheol squeezed his hand as he nodded across the room to Jeonghan, who hurried to make the phone call. “Of course. You’re pack, Jun-ah. I’ll take care of everything, okay?”

 

Jun managed a small smile.

 

Time passed, during which Seungkwan came in and took over cuddling him, distracting him with jokes and soft commentary on everyone else. Seungcheol left to make a payment, Jisoo and Jeonghan brought drinks and snacks. A nurse came in to say his father was being taken for psychiatric evaluation. More time, during which all he could do was look at the exit of the emergency room and pray to whoever wanted to listen for his alpha’s safety.

 

They were long past the six-hour mark when the door finally opened and a tired-looking man in operating gear straining over wide shoulders came towards them. “Wen Junhui-ssi?” he asked quietly, looking between them.

 

Jun’s limbs straightened him before he could think of standing, but he felt Seungkwan stand with him, arm around his waist. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m… that’s me.”

 

“Doctor Kim,” the man introduced himself. “The operation was a success. Xu Minghao-ssi is currently in the post-op recovery room. We managed to haul him through. He’ll be transferred to ICU until we’re certain he’s recovering well and that we didn’t miss anything, so you’ll be able to see him as soon as they wheel him out and arrange his place. One of the nurses will give you protective gear before you head in there.”

 

Jun wasn’t quite sure that he was still conscious. The room churned and spun around him as he exhaled desperately. He could distantly hear Seungkwan thanking the doctor and promising to take care of him; his thoughts weren’t calm despite the doctor pushing him back in a chair and checked his pupils and pulse. Seconds later, as he disappeared promising some kind of medicine, Seungkwan turned to hug him again, and he let relieved tears flow without pause into his dongsaeng’s neck.

 

Over an hour later, when he finally got into ICU at Seungcheol’s side, he cringed at the sight of the bed. Minghao looked like paper, bleached and unhealthy, and his slight form was swaddled in bandages from neck to hips. The bruises on his face had darkened with the hours they had been awake, and he didn’t move when Jun took his hand. Leaning in, he couldn’t smell any of Minghao’s icy, calming scent past the chemicals used in the operation; the only thing that seemed to go right was that his heartbeat was steady now, treading out a solid line on the ECG machine.

 

Seungcheol watched the both of them, one hand gentle on one of Minghao’s feet.

 

“Thank you,” Jun whispered. “Thank you for saving him. I’m not sure how you got there in time, but… thank you.”

 

Seungcheol gave him a skewed, warm smile. “You’re pack,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

 

Jun bit his lip and nodded. “I wish I had asked the doctor some more questions…” he muttered vaguely. He sunk down on a tiny visitor’s chair, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the smells coming off every sick patient in ICU.

 

Seungcheol said nothing, but he managed to get one of the sisters, who took a good look at the charts before she came to check Jun as well. “It was a long operation because they had to stitch layers of abdominal muscle and skin back together,” she explained to them both. “He was lucky the gouges didn’t go deeper than that. You really don’t want to muck about with the actual abdominal cavity if you can help it. What does he do?”

 

“He’s a dancer,” Seungcheol answered. “First year of his Masters.”

 

“He won’t be able to dance again immediately,” she warned. “And there might have to be some physical therapy. You’re his family?”

 

Jun pressed his eyes shut. “I’m his ma… no, well, I was going to be, I was just waiting for him to ask, and I would have asked myself on his birthday…” He reached up to scrub at his face, trying not to cry again. “Oh my god, how am I even going to tell his parents? They’re gonna take him away and never let me see him again…”

 

Making a clucking noise in her throat, the sister hauled out a packet of tissues from a pocket, handing them over. “Things will work out,” she promised softly. “They always do, in the end. Just twenty minutes, ok? We’ll phone once he wakes up, but the doctor gave him something so that he’s knocked out for the rest of the day, to make sure he doesn’t strain his stitches immediately.”

 

Seungcheol nodded to her, resting a hand on Jun’s shoulder. “Thank you, sister,” he murmured. “We’ll inform his parents.”

 

* * *

 

Seokmin wasn’t really sure whether up was down anymore. People always talked about how hard it was on omegas to spend time with an alpha in rut, but he had never really appreciated that until now. Over the past two days Chan’s libido had gone from purring to full-blown monster truck engine, and he had barely kept up. No, no, that was a lie, he hadn’t kept up, every bit of him felt tired and sore and disgusting.

 

“You smell like the rain,” Chan said quietly behind him, fingertips drawing patterns on his ribcage. “Not like clowns. You lied to me. I like it.”

 

Seokmin huffed a tired laugh. “Is that so?” he asked, forcing his eyes open to look at his boyfriend. He couldn’t conjure up a smile, but it was there on Chan’s mouth, vulnerable and curving into a slight, secretive grin. “I’m surprised you can smell me through you.”

 

Chan inhaled deeply and curved closer, tucking his head into Seokmin’s neck to kiss the patch over the scent glands; he inhaled deeply there, made a comfortable little noise and settled in. “I think it’s over,” he muttered, lips whispering across Seokmin’s too-sensitive skin. “Thank you for staying with me. For… for not minding that I took control.”

 

Giving a long, tired sigh, Seokmin lifted one hand to bury in Chan’s hair, massaging his scalp slowly. “You can make it up to me with a couple of pain pills, a bath and some real sleep,” he suggested. “I want to go back to my dorm room and pick up some clean clothes, and we can take a shower here, but I’m not going to be good for much… owww.” He cringed back from moving and waved one hand in the direction of his phone, making grabby hands towards the drawer, scrunching his face up.

 

“Are you… are you trying to use the Force?” Chan giggled, moving to drape over his belly and haul the phone out of the drawer for him. Used to each other, he swiped it open with his thumb before handing it over, making his way out of the bed next. “I’ll go put the shower on!” he suggested over his shoulder, sauntering away as naked as the day he was born.

 

Seokmin watched him, lips tucking into a secret smile at the shower, powerful lines of his boyfriend’s body before he looked at his messages. His eyebrows – about the only thing unhurt – climbed as he opened the group chat, and the longer he read the less he liked it. At the end of it, flicking through the frantic messages Seungkwan and Seungcheol had left, he tried to roll to his feet, but his body’s aches left him stranded on his back like a tortoise. “Channie!” he called. “Come help! There’s somewhere we need to go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Apologies to all for this being so late and shorter than normal, but due to some personal issues I'm not going to be able to write for a while so figured I'd best post this. 
> 



	9. Chapter 9

Once upon a time, Minghao couldn’t remember how long ago, he had gotten food poisoning, and had spent the entire day getting to know the bathroom intimately. He could vaguely remember how his stomach, not to mention his chest, had hurt afterwards from the repetitive strain injuries caused to the muscles by getting sick all the time. The memory sat there, taunting him, and he haltingly wondered why. His thoughts didn’t want to work the right way either.

 

Seconds later, as he woke up enough to feel the pain, he understood very well. His stomach felt it was on fire, so much so that he didn’t want to think of moving. His mouth opened on an aspirated sigh and a hand came to take his immediately, squeezing the slim lengths of his fingers desperately.

 

“Hao-hao.”

 

The voice broke on the syllables but he knew who it was immediately, and it was infinitely dear to him. Junhui, whose voice really didn’t sound the best with small sadnesses, but when he was laughing and laughing and making fun of things or telling really bad jokes.

 

He managed to screw an eye open. That didn’t want to work well either, not until someone gently dabbed at his eyes with a damp cloth and draped the cool length over his forehead. Jun blossomed in his vision, blobby and blurry at first, then increasingly higher resolution as he sluggishly woke up. His mouth tasted _terrible_ , and yes, there was still that all-consuming hell around his stomach and he was really, _really_ confused.

 

“ _Xīngān_ ,” he managed to get out, voice almost croaking. Had he gotten an illness somehow that Jun had nursed him through? At the endearment, Jun’s face crumpled up and he lowered his head to cry on Minghao’s chest, fingers still cramp-tight around his.

 

“Stop it,” he mumbled, trying to lift an arm to comfort him, but there was something keeping him back, straining at the skin of his other arm. He swivelled his gaze that way, eyes rounding as he saw what looked like a drip, and he had just started to panic when a nurse bustled up and pressed his arm back down, then scooted Jun off into someone’s hold – Jisoo? His eyes still didn’t want to work very well. Had he really been that ill that he ended up in hospital somehow?

 

The nurse checked him quickly but professionally, hands cool on his warm toes for a moment, and she grinned when they wiggled back to the warmth of the blanket. It was water next, held up to his lips and rationed to him in tiny little sips, which didn’t jar his stomach too badly. “Pain?” she asked professionally, and noted it down as well when he nodded. “Can you remember what happened?”

 

Minghao cast his fuzzy mind back, trying to recall. Slowly, with great reluctance, the memories crept back, from opening the door to fighting Jun’s crazy-ass father, to being so stupid as to look away for a moment in the midst of a fight. “…yes,” he said softly, unwilling to nod his head. That pained too, though it was less than nothing to the other. “I was in a fight and it didn’t end well. Where am I?”

 

She scratched out a few more things at the chart at the foot of his bed, then fussed to make sure he was tucked in tightly on the inclined bed. “You’re in ICU,” she said crisply. “You had an operation yesterday, and _someone_ has been hovering around you since, as much as we allowed him.” She turned away for a moment to smile. “The operation was a success. Don’t worry about anything. Are you up for company? I can bring you something for pain as well.”

 

He nodded again. “I want Jun,” he murmured. His hand felt _empty_ , and there was a soft inhalation of breath before his Jun was back again, his lovely omega, the reason why he had made it through the first year of foreign studies. “Hyung,” he said over his shoulder to Jisoo, who stepped closer as well. “Thank you. Is he… is he safe?”

 

“Very safe,” Jisoo said solemnly. “You’re pack, remember? We’ll keep him safe until you’re better. He _is_ getting rather tired and punchy though, so hug him and then kick him out so I can put him in bed.”

 

Minghao swivelled his gaze back to Jun, managed to persuade his hand up enough to touch his cheek before it fell to his grasp again. “Take care of yourself,” he muttered. “Love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Jun promised into the grasp he had on his hands, fingers tangled through his, hands too cool for his liking. “I love you, Xu Minghao. You just… you just get better, ok?”

 

\------------

 

Seungkwan, tired from his stint at the hospital with classes immediately on top of that, hadn’t argued very hard with Seungcheol when his _hyung_ had put his foot down and told everyone in the associated reaches of the pack that they’d be staying with them. Instead, he had gone to his dorm to pack and leave a note for his absentee roommate, had taken an Uber to the apartment building and had tiredly fallen into bed in his room in Jeonghan- _hyung_ ’s apartment next door. He had been too tired to consider the fact yet again that Seungcheol’s parents were not only mega-loaded, but apparently approved of them all somehow; instead, the moment his face had hit his pillows he had been away.

 

Now, after hours of what felt like the best nap of his life, he woke to look at the shimmering stars someone had stencilled all over the ceiling. There were little lights on in the room, not enough to disturb his sleep, just enough to give him a sense of ease, and someone had drawn the blinds against the coming night. Lazily, almost unwilling, he crawled out of bed and puttered over to check his phone. A few messages, one from his sister with a cute picture of a dog, one from his mother asking when he’d return for a holiday. A group chat that seemed livelier, made so by the news that Minghao- _hyung_ had woken.

 

He pinched his eyes shut against the threat of tears, but his smile didn’t want to quit.

 

Putting his phone in its water-proof case, he meandered to the bathroom and took his time in the shower, taking advantage of the water pressure of the building. He still felt lassitude as he wandered out to go and dig through the closet for the single pair of sweats he left there last time.

 

The closet wafted open with the light smell of roses and lemongrass, eager to open against the pressure of all the clothes inside. Shirts, pants, sweaters… it looked like an idol’s crowded closet, and he searched in vain for his sweats. Gritting his teeth, he tied the yellow towel more tightly around his waist and stomped out to go and do battle with that clotheshorse _hyung_ of his.  

 

“Hyung!” he called as he made his way across the second floor landing, then down the stairs. “Hyung, where are the clothes… I…”

 

He didn’t quite stumble to a halt, but he did have to brace himself on the couch as he nearly fell over Hansol, who emerged from the passageway leading to the kitchen. The alpha was clad in some kind of godforsaken tie-dye moment, classic Hansol, with a beanie only allowing snippets of hair to escape. The sounds of what sounded like party prep coming from the balcony faded, and the moment mellowed from the desire to rip the ugly beanie off to the realisation that he was, in fact, extremely naked in front of an extremely hot guy.

 

Seungkwan’s body felt as if it roared into action: his blush rolled down his cheeks, scooting over delicately delineated collarbones, hormones punching a kick in his gut as he watched Hansol watch him. His eyes followed a slow trail down Seungkwan’s body, attention nailed on the way water droplets still coasted down his torso and disappeared into the tightly-wound towel. His fingers cramped tightly into the knot in it, lungs working as he inhaled.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Salty-sweet and warm, some kind of herbal bodywash layered over a clean, beachy kind of scent: hot sunlight and warm sand, the distant smell of salty ocean and sun-warmed rocks. Deeper, _deeper_ , to a kind of musky, all-encompassing _something_ that smelled like alpha and health and fertility and a thousand other things the creature living inside him appreciated. The slow, thick richness that betokened arousal, all in the moment before Hansol snapped his lips shut on an interested growl.

 

“Kwan.” It was there in his voice as well, in the slight lowering of his speech, the interested look he gave him.

 

Seungkwan’s heart tripped, mind afloat in a mishmash of emotions: love, desperate need, fear, shame at his body, a thousand other things. He inhaled again, felt the ravenous stir in his gut, tried not to tremble as he smiled. “Nonie. I…”

 

Hansol tilted his head slightly. “There are people out there,” he said mildly, but the look in his eyes got the message across: _and I don’t want anyone to see you like this but me._ One hand reached out to cup over the joint of Seungkwan’s shoulder, fingers gentle against his skin. They trailed down over the omega’s sternum, gently continued down with the water droplets, until his thumb hitched in his bellybutton and he deviated to place it right on the spot where waist became hip. He didn’t need to lean in to smell ripe berries beneath the lemongrass bodywash, but he did, lips fluttering over Seungkwan’s pulse but not quite touching.

 

Seungkwan’s knees weakened with the flush of sensation. Between their fights and all the upsets amongst the _hyungdeul_ , they hadn’t had the chance to do anything lately, not to mention go all the way to sex. Right now, with his knees trembling, he didn’t know whether he wanted to run away or pounce.

 

_No, scratch that. I want to pounce._

Something tingled just above his tailbone, the vestigial sensation of a tail that wanted to flick and lash. He swallowed, felt Hansol’s lips touch his neck as he did so, and barely got his legs to work again before Hansol’s arms lifted to pick him up. His heart thudded at the display of artless strength, leaning in to kiss him softly.

 

Two steps, three, and the kiss wasn’t soft anymore but hungry. He nipped at Hansol’s lower lip, tugged on it a little, and felt them thud against one of the nearby walls as the alpha pressed him up against it to properly kiss him, tongue searing-hot and sweet in his mouth. When he pressed forward, whining and demanding more, their teeth clicked together and he lost it, giggling like mad as Hansol growled at him. Shifting a little, he wrapped his legs around his waist to make up for it.

 

“Laugh at me, huh?” Hansol demanded as he pulled back, lips kissed pink and a little swollen. With a couple of quick steps, he made for Seungkwan’s bedroom and tossed him through the air to land on the bed.

 

Seungkwan shrieked as he flew through the air, legs and arms and towel flailing. He landed hard enough to disorient him for a moment, cutting off the guilty giggles, and had to reach down to keep any pretense at modesty. Even then, seconds later when Hansol’s shoulders spread his legs wide, he blushed again as the alpha reached out to slowly remove the towel.

 

Hansol slowly peeled the yellow cloth away from Seungkwan, looking at him all pink and shivery and already half-hard. “Leave it,” he got out, slightly unhappy about the too-concave curve of Seungkwan’s belly and the jut of ribs against the omega’s skin as he inhaled desperately. “God, you smell so fucking good.” He leant down, kissing the inside of one knee delicately, nipping gently at the trembling muscle, until he could press kisses into the slight furrow dividing leg and groin. It was like late summer that burst over his tongue as he licked there, heavy honeysuckle and the smell of wild mulberries. “I really want to forget there are people downstairs.”

 

Fighting to regain his voice from the high, keening whimper that wanted to escape, Seungkwan swallowed and tried to ignore how wet he was getting. The memories of Hansol eating him out that once ran rampant through his mind and he wished… he wished he could lift his hips just a little, invite him to do it again. “Me too…”

 

Hansol hesitated, knowing that if he made one move to suck Seungkwan’s hardening cock, to even gently lick to see if it tasted salty or sweet or in between, he’d lose whatever self-control he had. Instead he sat back, gently folding the towel back over Seungkwan’s hips. “Tonight. I, um, planned a surprise for the two of us. There’s a rooftop garden here, I thought we could have a picnic and… I mean, if you want?”

 

Seungkwan stared at Hansol, ignoring the nervous blather for what his eyes were saying. “I’d love that,” he said softly, touched. “I’ll get dressed before I leave again, promise, even if I have to borrow _hyung_ ’s clothes.”

 

“Or I can nip in next door and bring you some of my clothes?” Hansol asked, wolf in him perking at the thought of Seungkwan dressed in his things again.

 

“Or you can do that,” Seungkwan agreed with a smile. “Just something pretty, okay? And no tie-dye!”

 

\-----------------

 

Jihoon trudged up the steps of the apartment building in Soonyoung’s wake. After most of the day spent brooding on precisely why he felt so betrayed by his own body when he didn’t want kids in the first place, he hadn’t wanted to go out, but Jeonghan put his foot down, and that had made Seungcheol guilt-trip him into it. The pack was pulling together, drawing strength from each other to cope with the difficult times recently. He could understand it, but he would have been fine with chicken and rice in bed.

 

The ride up in the elevator was quiet as well. He stared at the numbers steadily climbing, and Soonyoung stared at his reflection in the mirror. Insanely stupid music played gently, until Jihoon could feel his temper growing to lava-levels.

 

“Just so you know, I’m going to eat all the meat,” he mumbled. “And all the rice.”

 

“Hmm?” Soonyoung drawled, looking back from where he had been making faces at himself. “But that’s what you normally do in any case, Kitten. It’s why I’m such a slender reed, I don’t get fed enough.”

 

Silence reigned in the elevator for four disbelieving seconds before Jihoon burst out laughing at the stupid hilarity of it all. Soonyoung with his strong shoulders and stronger thighs was the least reed-looking reed he had ever seen. “Yah,” he said, relationship easing the disrespect. “You suck.”

 

Soonyoung’s smile just stretched wider. “Frequently,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows crudely. “But when it comes to meals I still prefer your ass.”

 

Jihoon wasn’t sure what had happened to his sense of humour that he enjoyed the crassness of that, but he didn’t hesitate to smack his mate in the shoulder and turn him so that he could hop onto his back like a lazy sloth. He wiggled until he was comfortable, arms draping off Soonyoung’s front, with his tail curled lazily around their waists. “If you existed solely on ass, you’d be three times bigger than you are.”

 

Soonyoung hitched him up to a comfortable position and slowly strolled out as the lift opened. “There’re going to be questions,” he said softly.

 

Resting his jaw against Soonyoung’s shoulder, Jihoon mmd. “I can answer them. I’m not a delicate flower. My parents would laugh you out of the house if you suggested that.”

 

Pausing, Soonyoung looked ahead of them. “I don’t think that at all. But I do also think that you’ve been through a tough time mentally and will still go through it, and I’ll help as much as I can, Kitten.”

 

Wiggling his jaw to and fro against the muscle bundle in the shoulder beneath him, Jihoon grunted. “I’m going to go for a proper health assessment,” he said softly. “And I’m going to drag Seungkwan with me. Maybe to someone that doesn’t make me feel as if I’m a bird? But we’re going to sit there, and listen, and then make _informed_ choices. I want to go to the gym as well, I’ve not been working out recently. If you can do the same for Seokmin-ah and Channie, I would appreciate it, if he’s not going to get that from Cheol.”

 

“And then?” Soonyoung chanced.

 

“And then we’ll talk if we ever feel ready to have kids, because I don’t want to go through another period like the last few days,” Jihoon murmured into his shoulder. “And we’re going to visit my parents and let them know that you’re my mate. I haven’t been in Busan for way too long anyway… what do you think?”

 

Soonyoung smiled down the hallway as if it was the future. “I think it’s a good idea, all of them.”

 

Way down the corridor, a head popped out, tousled blonde crowning an indignant face. “Stop flirting in the corridors,” Jeonghan ordered, eyes narrowed. “Get your asses in here where we can talk like pack, damn you.”

 

The two of them nodded, wide-eyed, with Jihoon burying his giggles in the side of Soonyoung’s strong neck. “Pack, huh? Think it’s too late to run away now?”

 

“Lee Jihoon,” Soonyoung said, mock-scandalised. “Away from the barbecue? Be serious! Come on.”

 

Hiccupy laughter followed them as Soonyoung dashed down the corridor, carrying his mate on his back.


	10. Chapter 10

The party was going well – well enough, Chan would have said, had he not been fresh off his first rut and more than a little ashamed at the scene he had caused at the university. Seokmin was way over on the other side of the room doing dance-offs and games with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, leaving him to creep closer to Hansol little by little. He couldn’t really remember _that_ much of what had happened, but the first few days of rut had been made miserable by his injured throat, and the bruises hadn’t faded until the fourth day.

 

His nose was still sensitive enough to smell Hansol’s scent all over the baggy clothes Seungkwan was wearing, which made him feel a little guilty as well.

 

It was… it was _hard_ trying to get past the blow to his ego. Chwe Hansol looked like the most cliché stoner ever: baggy clothes and plaids, tie-dye and a vacant look in his eyes. Even with all his months of knowing him, even after the incident at the sport meet, somehow it hadn’t quite clicked precisely how much strength lay underneath the mop of tousled hair and sleepy eyes. It had only clicked when he had felt that hand pick him up; there was still a kernel of fear there, because he had come very close to having his throat ripped out for hurting Seungkwan like that.

 

He swallowed nervously as he scooted over the last little bit, sitting close enough to Jisoo and Hansol to be noticed, but not quite so close as to try and dominate his way into the conversation.

 

Jisoo shot him a calculated look as he spotted the motion, ice-blue eyes intent, before he smiled to them. “You two chat. I’m going to check on the results of the beer run. If Mingyu bought non-alcoholic beer again I’m going to make him drink all of them.”

 

Hansol mumbled, agreeing, and silence descended, uncomfortable and twanging.

 

“ _Hyung_ ,” Chan began, then sighed, not sure how to begin. “ _Hyung_ ,” he tried again. “About Seungkwan- _hyung_ , I…”

 

Hansol looked at him steadily. Not angrily, just measuringly, which felt worse by far. Suddenly it occurred to him that being able to stand up to Seungkwan- _hyung_ ’s whining 24/7 didn’t augur for anything but a strongly-willed individual, another aspect that hid beneath the pacifist mask.

 

Chan put the can down, wiped his hands off against his jeans and took in a big gulp of air, scraping up his courage. “ _Hyung_ , I am so very sorry for how I behaved in Jun- _hyung_ ’s office. I know it’s not an excuse, but I really was a mess, practically blind with hormones. I’m really so sorry. I would… I would _never_ want to claim anyone like that. I don’t even like him like that. Just, for a moment…” His bravery ran out, mouth snapping shut as he looked down miserably. “Sorry,” he whispered softly. “I really am.”

 

Hansol took a measured pull from his beer. “I behaved pretty badly too,” he finally said. “I’m sorry about your throat.”

 

Chan looked up a little hopefully. “It didn’t hurt things between you and Seungkwan- _hyung_ , did it?”

 

Finally a smile appeared on Hansol’s mouth. “I think the only person really, actively pissed off is Seungcheol- _hyung_ , because we both lost control. He’s going to make us work harder, and he’s going to have Hannie- _hyung_ and Jisoo- _hyung_ make pointed comments at us.” Looking over his shoulder, he considered, then scooted closer. “You and Seokmin- _hyung_? Nothing got hurt there?”

 

Chan didn’t bother fighting the blush that rose. “It worked out really, _really_ well,” he muttered. “He told me funny stories and, well, I think we’re closer together now?”

 

Hansol knocked back a slug of soda. “Good, ‘cause I needed your help, sort of. I’m preparing something for Kwan, do you think you can keep him busy for the next hour or so? Sounds like they’re already rapping over there, but I need him to not come to the roof or come looking for me for the next hour.”

 

Chan looked over as well. Clustered around the music station, Seokmin, Seungkwan and Jisoo were in a three-way rap battle of sorts, with the others in a circle around them shouting out scores and laughing at the disses coming from them. “An hour?” he said, finishing the half-warm Coke in his hand. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

The evening progressed, people settling in. Jihoon had no temperament for prolonged grief and it seemed inappropriate in light of the party atmosphere, but it still rode in the back of his mind. It had enough of a voice that he singled Seungkwan out eventually, convincing him to walk with next-door, where they could sit down in blissful silence. It was just a little awkward, but he was the _hyung_ , and he’d kill himself before Seungkwan went through the grief that he did. Their talk, much belated as it was, was due.

 

“ _Hyung_?” Seungkwan asked as the two settled themselves in the kitchen of the second apartment – Jihoon had judged the living room too sterile. Too open, as if something of such importance needed close confidence, and for some reason all the pillows had disappeared anyway.

 

He fiddled with his glass of Coke. “I thought I was pregnant,” he got out bluntly. “And so did you. We both did.”

 

Seungkwan nodded hesitantly. “I… you told me it was a problem with the pills,” he said gingerly. “We have that appointment booked again, or did you not want me to go with?”

 

Jihoon shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just… I thought I was pregnant, even though I didn’t wish to be at the time, and it turned my life upside-down. New priorities came forward. I had to… I had to think of the future. Not just the bad, but the good. What it would have been like to have Soonyoung’s baby and seeing his eyes on a tiny person. Shopping. It was miserable. In the end I wasn’t and I lost trust in my own body. I felt so bad, you understand? I still feel bad and confused.”

 

Seungkwan said nothing, but nodded and scooted closer as he reached to hold his closest hand. Jihoon let him, because it was one lesson he had learnt the last two weeks – he had friends, as loud and inconveniently bubbly as they normally were.

 

“ _Hyung_ doesn’t want that for you. So I… I want to make sure that you’re okay not only with the concept of sex, but how to be safe about it. So that you don’t have to worry like I did, ever, because you’ll be mentally prepared for it.

 

He watched a complex series of emotions find expression in Seungkwan’s face: embarrassment, fondness, a little bit of pique, and confusion. “ _Hyung_ ,” his dongsaeng said. “Is this like the cucumber talk you had with Hansol-ah?”

 

Jihoon shook his head. “No, _pabo_ ,” he sighed. “It’s the talk I wish I had someone give me when I first started sleeping with men. I’m going to give it to you straight, and you’re never going to tell anyone about it, okay? You’re my responsibility, and if I ever want to be a good father, I have to start learning how not to show, but to teach and how to guide. Just listen, okay?”

 

At Seungkwan’s blushing nod he started, and soon the kid’s cheeks were flaming: tips about hygiene, about how to approach sex from the omega viewpoint, how to handle the hormones and the pitfalls of actually _having_ sex. About condoms, and how to handle impertinent alphas – though he didn’t think it’d ever be necessary with Hansol – and how to handle his own mind and body afterwards. Half an hour into the conversation he even got Jun on speakerphone, and it was a very illuminated Seungkwan that wandered away with a flushed pink face. He watched him go, sighed softly and put his head down on the table, fingertips hesitant over the slick marble feel of it.

 

As a song came to him, he cracked a smile and softly let go of the missed opportunity in his heart. “We’ll come and find you,” he whispered to his unknown children. “We’ll come and find you in the future. Just hold on a little longer, okay? Appa just has a few things to think about first and a tiger to marry.”

 

* * *

 

 

Seungkwan shivered as he hopped out of the shower. Jihoon- _hyung_ ’s talk had been illuminating, especially about preparation, so he had scrubbed and prepared, cleaned himself as best he could. He felt squeaky-clean in places he had never thought of before, and a warm little blushing glow slid over him as he rummaged around in Hansol’s closet. The clothes in there would never fit him perfectly, his boyfriend was genuinely taller and his taste in clothing ran to baggy, but he made do: a simple set of tracksuit pants, a shirt perfect for sleeping in, and the fluffiest hoodie he could find.

 

Biting his lip, he took out the strip of condoms Jihoon- _hyung_ had dug up from Jisoo- _hyung_ ’s stash. They looked as if they came from some kind of varied pack, with one promising ribs and another tingles, and all proudly stamped with the fact they could handle knots. It made him feel rather quivery, thinking about that, but if Seokmin- _hyung_ could handle Chan, he could damn well accommodate one too!

 

Courage zinged through him a little, and he stuffed them in the zip-pocket on the hoodie’s one arm, treading carefully around the piles of clothes and books and _things_ that made Hansol’s room an obstacle course rather than a place of rest. Inhaling deeply just before he left, he wandered down the staircase back into the party area, right into Jeonghan- _hyung_ ’s claws.

 

“My baby,” Jeonghan said, smiling as if he knew a secret no one else did.

 

“ _Hyung_ , I’m not your baby,” Seungkwan said with a bit of embarrassment. “That’s Chan. He’s right over there… uh, apparently having a drinking competition with Cheol- _hyung_?” He boggled over Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Are they smashing the cans on their foreheads afterwards? What is _wrong_ with them? Is this some kind of macho thing?”

 

Jeonghan kept him in the hug. “I’ve given up trying to find out,” he muttered, wiggling his chin back and forth over Seungkwan’s shoulder fondly. A pack marking, just a small one. “So you’re my baby tonight.”

 

Seungkwan struggled a little to free himself. “I already chopped the onions for the salad!” he said hastily. “I…”

 

Jeonghan smirked into his shoulder. “Soonyoung-ah tells me we need some more things, so run up to the roof garden for me, okay? Just mint and things. You can come back right afterwards if you want.”

 

Deflating, Seungkwan bit his lip. So much for the plan to locate his boyfriend and disappear with him for a bit. “Fine,” he muttered. “Mint?”

 

Jeonghan gave his ass a healthy smack to start him on the way. “Second row towards the back!”

 

Squeaking, Seungkwan made for the door out, then the lift, trying not to pout too much. He checked his phone on the short trip up, irritated that there was nothing from Hansol, not even one of his stupid meme pictures, and marched out on the roof level with quite a bit of stomping.

 

Choi Heavy Industrials owned the whole building, and had spared no expense making it as luxurious as they could; despite that, none of the people that lived in the building visited the rooftop expanse, so it was more a place for the pack to chill out if they wanted to see sunsets. Over towards one side, sheltering in a split-level section, was a small greenhouse constructed out of glass and metal, Seungcheol’s mother’s idea, filled with flowers and herbs and benches. It was normally warm and cozy, but right now he wanted to be _downstairs…_

 

He stumbled to a halt as he entered the small structure. There were candles there, lined along all the paths. Unscented, because the flowers inside was already a riot of scents, and there were memories there too, printed out in polaroid format: here a shot of them at a water park, Seungkwan on Hansol’s shoulders, there a snap of Hansol lazing in the sun as Seungkwan played with his hair. Others too, a little garden path full of them illuminated by candles, and when he came to the end of it Hansol was waiting for him in the midst of a whole nest of pillows, blankets and throws, smiling uncertainly.

 

Seungkwan swallowed. “Now I see why the sofas had no pillows,” he mumbled through the tears that threatened, and went automatically into the hug his boyfriend offered. He knelt down too, arms wrapping around Hansol’s neck, and pressed his face against the strong, thick column of his neck. “What is this?” Had Jihoon- _hyung_ known? Jeonghan- _hyung_?

 

Hansol smiled into his hair. “I didn’t appreciate you enough the past few weeks,” he said as he pulled Seungkwan down into the pile with him. “Surprise? And yeah, the _hyungdeul_ were kind of in on it.”

 

Snuggling in comfortably, Seungkwan gave a sigh of pure delight. Bits of him relaxed slowly in the sweet, almost humid air, turning him into honey that draped along Hansol’s long lines. “Best boyfriend,” he groaned. “Best boyfriend ever. I’ll make you an award and we can hang it up on the dorm board or something.”

 

“I don’t want an award, I just want your heart.”

 

Seungkwan stilled at the comment, feeling secretly warm despite how truly corny it was. “That’s a line and a half,” he got out in a husky voice, half-amused and half head-over-heels. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss at the hinge of the alpha’s jaw, then a little lower down, finally ending with a kiss on one smooth, taut cheek. No stubble, which meant he had shaved in the last hour too. All of a sudden, he felt glad for the talk and the shower it prompted. “It’s likely to get you laid if you use it just right.”

 

Hansol’s eyes laughed up at him as Seungkwan pressed up and swung over, slotting his thighs on each side of slim hips. Large, strong hands settled on his thighs, caressing gently. “Yeah?” he teased. “I see you’ve been through my closet again, Boo.”

 

Seungkwan shrugged, unconcerned. “You mind?”

 

There was a glitter of possessiveness as his alpha stroked his hands from Seungkwan’s thighs to his waist, settling into the subtle curve there. “Drives me crazy, you know that,” Hansol muttered, wrapping arms around him to pull him close.

 

Seungkwan could smell him that close, no longer as scared as he had been once upon a time. The fire-pop of spices greeted his nose as he leant to press a kiss against his jugular, arousal overlaying the cleaner ocean-scent he normally had. A subtle sweetness grew as he kissed him again there, their scents mingling to something rich and heady and drugging. “Hansol-ah,” he breathed there, lips close enough to tremble against smooth skin as he spoke. “Did you also arrange with the _hyungdeul_ not to come up here for a while?”

 

“Mhm,” Hansol got out, sounding slightly pained.

 

“Oh good.” Seungkwan grinned as he sat up straight and reached to pull the hoodie and shirt off as one, baring his torso to the dusk light. He didn’t feel as embarrassed as usual, there was too much admiration in Hansol’s eyes for _that_. They trailed over his shoulders, arms and pectorals as hands moved to hold his gently, and he saw Hansol’s chest jerk as he inhaled abruptly, felt it in the movement of his stomach and the kick of his hips. Abruptly he understood a couple of things: Hansol liked what he saw, and he had nothing to be afraid of.

 

Hansol reached to gently touch a finger to his breastbone, looking to Seungkwan for permission before he trailed it down between his pectorals, over the indent of his ribs, along the too-lean line of his belly before his fingers curled into the drawstring of the sweats. “You know that time I ate you out?” he asked, voice a deep rumble of arousal.

 

Swallowing, Seungkwan nodded, and felt a trickle of slick at the thought. “Which time?”

 

“The first. I dreamt of that night for weeks after,” Hansol muttered, looking dazed. “How you tasted, how I wanted to do it until you went hoarse… how I wanted to work you open like that.” His hands slid around, settled on the start of Seungkwan’s ass, and gently worked the sweats and underwear off the luscious curve of it.”

 

Biting back a moan, Seungkwan wiggled out of everything, feeling a tingle at the base of his spine as if his non-existant tail wanted to curl and lash with satisfaction. “Really?” he asked vulnerably.

 

Hansol’s eyes looked black as pitch before he pinched them closed to groan. “Mhm. Gods, you smell fucking wonderful, Boo. Especially like this…”

 

Seungkwan fought back a blush as he felt the easy confidence from earlier erode a little. He knew the thick scent of late-harvest berries was his, but couldn’t smell the notes that Hansol’s nose got, didn’t know precisely what he smelled like all hot and aroused like this. He bit his lip, turned on just a little by the fact that he was naked and Hansol still fully clad. “You smell like roasting spices,” he shared shyly. “Normally you’re like walking on a beach, like the rock and the salt of the water and the sunlight beating down on beach-grass until it smells faintly sweet and warm. But now there’s this spicy note, like someone’s roasting spices until they pop and… and… it’s a scent I want to dive into.”

 

Hansol’s motion surprised him; he knew the alpha was precociously strong, but he flipped him as if he weighed nothing, trapping him beneath hard, heavy lines. It was enough to press him down into the nest he had made for them, and the only purchase he could find for his legs and arms was around his boyfriend’s body.

 

Hansol ravaged his lips, kissed and nibbled at them until they were even plumper than normal, until Seungkwan could taste the toothpaste on his breath and the insistent slide of their tongues together. “Kitty-cat,” Hansol said fondly but with exasperation, “Kwan, if you don’t want me to ravage you right here, you need to stop talking.”

 

Seungkwan opened his eyes and looked at the cozy conservatory, the warm light of the candles as dusk started to break in strips and hues most painters would be hesitant of using. He considered Hansol, the way the light gilded him, the way his body shivered with arousal.

 

 _Funny,_ he mused, hot and aroused and fully in love. _He’s adorable, giving me a chance to stop._   _Jihoon-hyung really trained us well._

Aloud, he laughed softly, an intimate little chuckle that was more few giggle than anything else. “Chwe Hansol,” he invited. “Make love to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Thank you so much for bearing with the radio silence! 
>   * This is part one of two. The second part is already half-written so should be out very soon. 
>   * As promised, a little growth on Jihoon's part re: his future. I was inspired by some of his lyrics in 'What Kind Of Future'. 
>   * I have moved the rating up to Explicit, since it'll better match the next chapter. 
> 



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * This is just smut. If you don't want to read it, the next chapter will continue on more normally. 
> 


Seungkwan reached up to cup his palms around Hansol’s face, massaging along impeccable cheekbones with his thumbs as he guided him back down. Their lips met softly, sweetly, chastely for a moment.

 

 _I’m ready,_ he tried to convey through the kiss. _I’m ready for this, for you, for being together in more ways than just one._

 

Hansol caught the message in nips and licks and sweet little kisses before he sat up to pull his shirt off; Seungkwan had seen him shirtless before, but he still relished the way his eyes went darker with lust, the way he bit his kiss-swollen lower lip as he grinned and _looked_ , scanning Hansol up and down. Hansol felt a fleeting rush of thankfulness for his gym habit as Seungkwan’s fingers reached to touch the sides of his waist, then up the sunken lines on each side of his abs to his ribcage. Ignoring his heart, which thundered rapidly in his chest, he let him touch and play, from the tiny peaks of his nipples to the suddenly-sensitive spots along his ribs.

 

He laughed as he leant away. “No tickling,” he warned, and reached to hold Seungkwan’s wrists to the pillows beneath him as he did just that. “You’re such a contrary cat,” he accused fondly. “Hold them there unless you want to take my pants off.”

 

Seungkwan stifled a giggle. “I get to take your pants off? Chwe Hansol, it’s not even my birthday, why am I getting presents?”

 

“Mmmhm,” the hybrid murmured as he leant to kiss Seungkwan’s golden throat. “Today’s precisely a year from the moment I first walked into lyrics class and saw you.” He opened his mouth to nip once, then twice, mapping out the route he’d take to mark Seungkwan if they ever got to mating. “Not when we spoke, but that first day. I came in late in the semester, remember?”

 

Tilting his head up, Seungkwan fought a relishing purr at the little bites, fingers curling into the pillows as his back arched. “I don’t… the first few months were too miserable to remember.”

 

“Oh good,” Hansol muttered as his lips sought deeper and deeper, finally settling over the sensitive skin that concealed the scenting gland, right where Seungkwan’s smell was the most heated. “You didn’t miss anything. I came in, took one look at you and had an inconvenient boner for the rest of the day, and just about every day afterwards.” He shifted to settle one hand on Seungkwan’s flank, running from hip to outside knee. “Lift,” he ordered softly, and nestled forward to settle between Seungkwan’s thighs when his omega did so.

 

Seungkwan swallowed hard, vision blurring just a little as Hansol’s lips worked at his neck. When he settled forward, pressing their hips together until he could feel the hardening length against his cock, he whined from it, giving up sight and sound as his body quaked with arousal. Everything tingled in a path between the pulling, licking pressure on his neck and his cock; something clenched deep in his belly and he felt abruptly wetter from the slick set free inside him. “God,” he moaned. “You’re going to make me cum just like that.”

 

Hansol smirked at the blurry, whispery sound of Seungkwan’s voice as he leant back a second to observe the mark on his neck. Not satisfied, he leant in again to make it darker, coax it into a bruise that’d show for days even if his scent didn’t stick around. “Untouched?” he whispered, dropping his free hand on Seungkwan’s belly to massage it gently in little circles. “Mmh, now I want to try. You’re such a bossy cat, Kwan, it’s such a turn-on to think of you mewling and helpless and desperate.” Finally satisfied, he lifted his head to steal another kiss, secure enough in the privacy of the place to make it deep and unhurried, a sensual slide of tongues rather than a peck. He grinned a wide grin against his mouth as the smell around them increased. “Someone likes that idea,” he teased.

 

Seungkwan’s cheeks were brilliant with a blush. “Shut up,” he moaned into the kiss, hips wriggling greedily as he tried to get Hansol closer. “Don’t pick on me, I’m weak.”

 

Even that provoked a laugh as Hansol sat up, lifting the leg around his waist to kiss the gentle bump of Seungkwan’s ankle. As his omega’s toes pointed from pleasure, he kissed his way slowly down the calf to the knee, then further up to the soft stretches of his thighs.

 

With one quick, easy pull he had the knee braced on his left shoulder, bending his lover up until only his upper back remained on the nest as he spent his time sprinkling little kisses and nibbles down the pale, soft, vulnerable stretch of his inner thigh. Seungkwan was squeaking very quietly with each, just little indrawn gasps, hips writhing to try and nudge him deeper. He was so, _so_ wet; Hansol could taste little leaks of slick the deeper he went, and he chased it down-down-down like a starving man, tongue lingering right where his thigh became his groin. “Kwan,” he murmured there. “Can I mark you here?”

 

Body practically exploding with a little constellation of sparks each time Hansol licked at him, Seungkwan had problems hearing the question the first time. The second, when it came accompanied by a nip to make him pay attention he practically sobbed. “M…mark me there?” His though process spun, barely coherent enough to keep up, until he wondered whether he was going into a little phantom heat from the sudden attention. “What?”

 

“I can’t mark you where I want yet,” Hansol said patiently, one hand slipping down over his wonderful ass to help him maintain the position. “So I want to, right here.”

 

Seungkwan had problems believing the spot Hansol’s mouth caressed wasn’t the most sensitive spot in his body all of a sudden. It seemed to pulse, pulling so close to his cock that it was helplessly hard now, leaking against his belly. “Mhm… if you want.”

 

Permission received, Hansol leant closer and set his teeth to the spot he had chosen, biting firmly. Seungkwan’s soft flesh offered minimal resistance as he made sure to sink his mark into the fold there, just up enough that he’d feel it every time he shifted position. His teeth didn’t break through the skin, but when he sat back, satisfied, it was deep purple, looking like a spill of dark ink on his omega’s flesh. He kissed it one last time, then blew over it slowly, helping the warm air cool and sting at it a little.

 

Seungkwan shouted with pleasure, glad that the place was practically sound-proof. “Hansol-ah,” he called, voice too deep to really sound like his. “Nonie, _please please please…!_ ” He felt ludicrously turned on, so wet that he could feel slick trickling down his ass. Hansol’s fingers holding him up shifted just a little and he shouted anew when they curled, blunt fingertips pressing a little between his cheeks, biting into a firm hold. They held him open as Hansol leant down further, made him vulnerable against the cool stream of air as he blew there too.

 

Hansol drowned in Seungkwan’s scent, so close to him that he smelled like a fruit orchard in summer, ripe and comfortable and unimaginably sweet. He didn’t want to tease. Instead, repositioning him in his arms, he slipped his tongue gently down, then up again, licking at the copious slick until his kitty was somewhat cleaner. It slipped headily sweet across his tongue, and he paid no attention to the sobs rising in the air as Seungkwan cried from need. Instead, settling his mouth over the little fluttering hole, he hummed, pleased. “You taste the best, Kwan,” he got out between licks, hands petting and playing with the wonderful ass that filled his hands. “God, I could live on your slick.” One hand lifted to spank him very gently. “More.”

 

Feeling pinned, not only by the hold but the pleasure that bore through him, Seungkwan held on for dear life as Hansol cleaned him up, working from his perineum to his hole. The crack against his ass, more sound than force, twisted him up inside, tore a squeal from him that sounded obscene.

 

His body obliged, gushing as Hansol worked his tongue in deep. It felt so much better than previously, so much deeper, that he felt perilously close to coming. He didn’t care, bent double as he was, and a few seconds later as one thumb slipped inside him to tug at his rim a little, he came all over himself with a shout. White streaks painted him, caught from his face to his belly in that position, little lashes of liquid heat. He burst out with renewed tears, tried to get a grip on things, but succumbed when Hansol didn’t stop, didn’t even halt.

 

Hansol ate his omega out slowly and thoroughly, fucking him with tongue and fingers, until three of them were deep inside him to curl against his prostate and he registered precisely how loud the cat was wailing. Seungkwan looked wrecked when he pulled away, face wet with tears, but hard again and Hansol _grinned_ : sex with anyone sounded great, but the idea of sex with an omega that had a refractory period measured short minutes was going to his head. Seungcheol- _hyung_ had been right, Kwan responded _way_ better to patient than he thought. “Kwannie,” he murmured, giving him a moment to catch his breath. “You’re doing so well.”

 

Trapped in the state of mind where there was just pleasure, just the touch of Hansol’s hands and lips, Seungkwan bathed in the compliment, managed to calm down just a tad. “Bastard,” he gritted out, voice thick but loving. “You bastard, how dare you be that good at it?”

 

Hansol’s lips twitched as he wiped his face clean. “Rapper tongue technology,” he misquoted an infamous song. “But it’s your fault, you’ve not taken my pants off yet. I’ll just keep going until you do.”

 

Seconds later, Seungkwan didn’t so much slam him on his back as weakly try to push him over; he went anyway, and pulled his hips up with his omega’s smooth hands moved to nudge his pants and underwear down slowly. He could see him shiver at the effort, even in the warm air, and stilled with shock when he nudged both down enough for his cock to slip free. It slapped up against his belly, hard and thick and long, head already shiny-wet with arousal.

 

Seungkwan stared, too mesmerised to take the pants off entirely. Fine, there was a rumour that Soonyoung- _hyung_ was ridiculously huge, and he’d believe it from the times Jihoon- _hyung_ walked into the studio practically bow-legged, but they had never gossiped about measurements, so he had little to go by. It seemed almost as thick around as his wrist, straight but deeply veined, and long enough he doubted he could take it. He definitely wasn’t going to go down on him either, his voice would be wrecked beyond belief.

 

More staring didn’t make the cock he eyed any smaller, it just made Hansol’s grin wider and wider until he was smiling so wide it was gummy and delighted.

 

The bite in his groin stung pleasure up his spine as he shifted closer. “Is this some kind of super-hybrid dick?” he demanded tartly. “Is that what is going on here?” He didn’t feel inadequate, he was a little longer than average himself, but Hansol was definitely very gifted.

 

Hansol reached to coax the pout off Seungkwan’s swollen lips with his fingertips before he fumbled for where he had left the condoms. “You know how you and Jihoon- _hyung_ are both a little different genetically, even though you’re both cats, and Soonyoung- _hyung_ also? Same’s true for the rest of us, especially because I’ve got mixed blood in me. Is it going to be a problem?” It went on, not easily, because Seungkwan was staring with fascination as it rolled down to sheath him.

 

Seungkwan kissed his alpha’s fingertips, shaking his head. “Will it be okay if I’m on top the first time?” he asked softly, fingertips trailing along Hansol’s closest side. “I can tell you if it gets uncomfortable.”

 

At Hansol’s nod he crept closer, then straddled him, uncaring for once that he was so fully naked in front of someone else. Instead, doubtful, he lifted to his knees to get enough distance, and Hansol helped him to sink down at the right angle. The first brush of the thick head against his fluttering hole felt like a brand, and he hissed as his cock slowly slipped inside him for the first time. Hansol was groaning too, helping him, holding him as he worked it inside in little sinking motions. For a moment towards the end he thought he couldn’t take more, stretched wider than he could have conceived. It was so stiff, so unyielding inside him that it shocked him when his body eased open a little more and he sat down fully.

 

Hansol bit his lip, too afraid to say something to ruin their concentration. Kwan felt so hot and wet, so _tight_ that he didn’t think he’d last long at all, especially not with the squirmy way he finally settled on him, all of his cock buried deeply inside his omega. “…wow,” he muttered, tracing his hips, his waist, up to his nipples in a series of shivery little caresses. “Wow, just… _wow_.” His hands dropped down again to span his waist, thumbs rubbing slowly over his belly.

 

Rather oddly, Seungkwan felt less vulnerable rather than more; when Hansol pressed his thumbs in to see if he could feel his cock, he laughed at him. “Singers have strong abdomens too,” he lectured. “It supports… mmmm. It supports our singing. You’re not going to feel anything.”

 

Hansol laughed open-mouthed and fond. “Are you full?” he asked curiously. “Can you… how does it feel?” He fancied if he pressed hard enough… yes. He could feel a small bump deep inside, made by the head of his cock, sunk higher than he would have thought. He didn’t mention it to Seungkwan, just let the thought rile him up even further.

 

Seungkwan wanted to laugh at the curiosity in his voice, lifting just a tiny bit before sinking down again. “Very full,” he purred, patting Hansol’s hands away from his belly. “Stop that. You’re getting that alpha smirk on your face.”

 

“What alpha smirk?” Hansol teased, knowing full well he was grinning like a loon.

 

“That one!” Seungkwan insisted, pointing. “The one that says clear as day you’re thinking bad smut novel thoughts! I… don’t laugh! Don’t make it wiggle!”

 

Hansol stilled as much as he could, though there was no way he could stop laughing entirely. His heart twanged as he saw Seungkwan lean forward at a slightly more comfortable angle, cheeks pink with arousal and effort as he slowly worked himself to a comfortable point on the rigid erection. There were stars in his eyes as he finally looked up at Hansol with victory, and Hansol’s heart twanged again. He was so ridiculously in love with Boo Seungkwan it wasn’t even funny.

 

“Take it easy,” he murmured, setting up a slow, strong roll of his hips. They didn’t find a rhythm very easily, but when they did he saw Seungkwan relax a little and it felt good, better than he had in his life. He watched the cat ride him gingerly and slowly, taking as much of the strain as he could. “If you want to lie back, we can do that as well?”

 

It took a few rolling surges of his hips before Seungkwan admitted defeath; the unaccustomed motion cramped at his back, and he sighed with relief when Hansol rolled them over to settle on him, pushing him deep into the nest’s soft embrace. Like this, he felt naughty when he spread his thighs open slowly, taking them as far as he could; it felt good and full and just a little easier at that angle, enough so that he purred with pleasure at the strong, rolling surges his alpha’s hips gave. “Better,” he whispered, feeling his cock brace him open, rub insistently at his prostate at each surge. “Fuck, Sol, _fuck_ , why haven’t we done this for the past year?”

 

“Neither of us were ready,” Hansol murmured as he leant to kiss his closed eyelids very gently. For a moment, though the closed space rang with the slick sounds of their bodies working against each other, he felt a great sense of peace wash through him.

 

Seungkwan mumbled a response, unsure what he said, but lost his train of thought at the slow, rolling surges of Hansol’s length deep inside. It reached something that felt _wonderful_ , and distantly he understood the warnings from earlier. Like this, with his alpha riding him so gently and slowly and lovingly, he felt as if he wanted to say fuck it to everything else. “Mmm…” Experimentally, he lifted his hips enough to angle them just right, locking his legs high up around Hansol’s waist, and squealed out a high, pleasurable note when the angle changed _something_. “Yessss,” he whined, fingers in his lover’s hair, mouth seeking his for a desperate kiss. “Yess, please, just like that, just… more…”

 

Hansol didn’t know if he was going to be able to last, not when Seungkwan curled around him like that and kissed him so hungrily and petted his shoulders, his arms, his back in praise. He kissed him deeply, fucking him a little faster, just a little harder, taking his cues from his body instead of the praises babbled into his mouth. Boo Seungkwan was the tightest, hottest thing he had ever felt, and he had the most maddening way of clenching at him, as if he couldn’t bear to let go. It milked at him, made his balls draw up tight and hot against his body, and a tingle formed at the base of his cock, warning him.

 

Seungkwan’s eyes slammed open as something changed. Hansol was thick enough already, especially with the rolling, rutting surges that his hips gave, but he could feel him swelling, pushing him open wider and wider. Surprised tears welled up in his eyes, and he tore his mouth away to pant in high, hitched whimpers, too overwhelmed to know what was up or not. Wider and wider, until his mind wanted to splinter from the insistent pressure.

 

“Shhh,” Hansol whispered, cheek pressed against Seungkwan’s sweat-wet temple. “It’s my knot, just breathe, baby, just breathe, don’t tense up…” He felt as if he was in a sauna, wet with slick and remnants of Seungkwan’s cum and the humidity of the place as he worked his swelling knot in and out of Seungkwan’s ass, trying to keep his motions smooth, trying not to hurt him too much. Once, twice, and then a third time he shafted in deep before it caught on Seungkwan’s rim and his omega warbled with the pressure of it against his inner walls.

 

Stretched open beyond belief, Seungkwan whined as the knot locked fully inside him and Hansol stopped moving so forcefully. He tried to breathe and adjust, but it felt so thick, so immediate he couldn’t. Each movement pressed insistently against his prostate and he shuddered, curling into a little ball around his lover’s tiny little hip-jabs. “Sol,” he cried tearfully. “Ahh, alpha, god, I can feel you, please, please…!” He didn’t know what it was begging for, just knew he had it when Hansol’s one hand settled around his weeping cock and quickly jerked him off until he came again, making shining stars appear in the darkness behind his eyes. He shuddered and wept, squealing as he worked himself against the indomitable knot that held him so wide open.

 

Long moments later, as the swell of his climax made the space between them slippery, he managed to open his eyes and stare up at Hansol, cheeks red and eyes wide.

 

“Hey,” Hansol grit out, trembling on the edge of a climax himself, staying just short by main force of will. “Baby… love, are you okay? Kwan, are you hurt?”

 

“No,” Seungkwan mumbled with slick lips, dazed and filled with warmth and radiating pleasure to the tips of his being. “No, I’m okay… wow. Fuck.” Reality filtered in slowly, and his mouth fell open as he realised his alpha was still rock-hard in him. “Alpha…” The word sunk into Hansol and he saw his lover shiver, felt him quake.

 

Hansol took a deep breath. It only took him a few rounded, grinding little thrusts but Seungkwan was so over-sensitive from the play that it got him shouting with pleasure again. This time he fell with him, felt too tired and in love to do anything but collapse in his arms as he started to cum.

 

Pleasure washed over Seungkwan so completely that all he could do was melt into the nest and cry overstimulated, desperate tears. Hansol was a heavy weight on him but it didn’t matter, nothing _mattered_ , not when some primal part of himself could feel the cock in him pulse and pulse. For a moment he wished savagely that they hadn’t used a condom, that he could feel the seed spurt and slosh and sink into him with a bone-melting warmth. All he could do, all he did was work himself against the knot over and over again, milking his alpha as dry as he could as he clung to him.

 

“I love you,” Hansol whispered into his ear as he cried. “I love you, Boo Seungkwan, so fucking much.”

 

The words stayed with him as tiredness pulled him under. He whined and fussed when Hansol leant a little away to get at a clean towel he had stashed close by, and he pulled him greedily back closer, relishing the heat and weight pressing him down-down-down into sleep.

 

His very last incredulous, boggled thought before he went to sleep was wondering if the insane pulsing; selfishly he wished it didn’t as he fell asleep to the ebb and wave of it deep inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * So this time I tried to provide a different kind of first time than Soonyoung and Jihoon's, because this really was the first time for Seungkwan, and they were both still nervous. I would really appreciate if you let me know if it flowed ok. 
> 



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